It's all well and good that Youko has invited him to visit as he likes (his interpretation), but... palaces sure are big, aren't they? Calhir flies a couple lazy circles around the center of the complex, but in the dark he'd probably miss her even if she was out, and he's near certain no one on the ground is going to spot him.
So he just picks out the biggest building, an open window with some light, and drops right onto the sill to take a look. If he happens to luck out and find her, easy enough. In the much more likely even that it's someone else... Youko had said no one would be put out by this kind of visit. Or at least, that was how he had understood her.
[ooc | for my records, this is continued from here.]
It isn't that the security of Kinpa Palace is lax or neglectful by any stretch of the imagination, but the Daiboku — that is, the Captain of the Palace Guard — has a good grasp of just how Youko's acquaintances tend to turn up. Official visits from the Emperor and Taiho of En are stuffy and can be unpleasant; not the atmosphere for drinking in the garden, playing games, and talking into the small hours of the night. At some point, it just became common practice to open the forbidden gate for them when they decided to show up.
That said, she did warn the servants as best she could for Calhir's unusual appearance. No need for them to get confused and sound the alarm, thinking a youma had snuck in. But there are so many buildings on the mountain that houses the imperial palace of Kei — thirty-two alone for Youko to sleep in — that there was high possibility the word didn't spread far enough fast enough.
She has done what she can on her end to make sure her guest finds the right one, having extra lanterns lit around the pillars and paths of the garden pavillion off the rokushin, her personal quarters. It lacks a clear view of the Sea of Clouds, which she favors, but it has the least obstructed view of the moon short of riding out over the sea itself. Her guest seemed interested in drinking under the stars, so that may as well be the order of things.
Youko herself is dressed down in the sort of clothes she calls comfortable and her chief lady-in-waiting would struggle to say anything positive about. This being an off-the-books meeting, and one she dressed for without help, means she doesn't have to give a fig about her dignity as an empress. She's seated at the table under the pavilion with the bottles, cups, and a sufficient number of snacks (she maybe extorted the kirin of En to get her from Hourai), waiting in the night breeze.
[ Youko has to wait a little longer; his fault for ever preferring the highest seat in - or, usually, on - the house. He pokes around a few more open windows before, finally, the lights in the garden draw his attention and he glides down for a look. He's no owl, but for his size his arrival is whisper-quiet. ]
Hello, Youko. I didn't think you'd be waiting for me out here. I may have scared one of your servants...
[ Calhir's courtesy may be very distant indeed from that which is in theory owed to an empress, but he isn't entirely immune to the feeling that her time is more valuable than his, so the comment comes across as slightly chastened, for underestimating her hospitality and for the delay it caused.
He's dressed perhaps a little more richly than her, but his 'caste' favors light clothing to begin with - his laced knee-length pants and apron-like top are typical. So there isn't really much of a difference there. ]
[For as quietly as he arrived, Youko is getting up from her chair just a beat before he says hello. A perk of her kirin's shirei sticking to her shadows. She smiles warmly up at Calhir, hands coming to rest on her hips with a soft chuckle about him frightening a servant.]
I'll have someone deliver rice cakes and wine to the staff. I'd do it myself, but that might frighten them more. [She huffs a little at that, it clearly something she struggles with. Then, she starts a little, remembering herself, gesturing to the chair across from her.] Sit down, please. I owe you a drink.
[There are ceramic bottles lined up nicely on the table accompanied by matching ceramic cups, and low ceramic dishes of snacks — round fried flatbreads filled with mince, sweet small diamond-shaped rice cakes, fresh cut peaches and pears, peanuts mixed with spicy rice cracker shards. She wasn't sure what he'd like, but if none of her choices suit him, they can always go on an adventure to the kitchens.]
I'll admit there's only so much I can set up myself, but I hope you'll find it satisfactory.
An ruler isn't too different from a monster when you don't know its moods. I'm sure they'll warm to you in time.
[ In her staff she has people who are too frightened... and here, on the other hand, someone who could perhaps stand to be just a little less blunt with his phrasing, even if his intention was to sympathize. But he's not trying to be standoffish - if anything he finds that sunny disposition she's showing to be charming - and he sits with her easily at the invitation. ]
When you say it like that I want to press my claim again. [ An amused twist crosses his lips. ] To that mystery bottle you've hidden away. But I did relinquish that, didn't I? So tell me what we are drinking. Or who recommended it, or where you found it.
[ Since he can hardly expect her to necessarily know the provenance of every bottle in her stores. ]
Well, it's more that — [She sighs, one that comes with soul-deep exhaustion, before changing her demeanor. She does her best impression of a cold, stoic individual giving a lecture.] — "the servants won't know what to make of you speaking to them casually, your majesty. It isn't done, it diminishes the dignity of the throne".
[She relaxes into her seat, the tension inherent in her mimicry dissipating.]
But I catch your warning. I never want to be someone my people are afraid of anyways.
[He gets a smile for turning the conversation to the volume of liquor she's unearthed.]
You're never seeing that bottle, but you're welcome to these. We have white liquor, yellow wine, wolfberry wine, and cassia wine.
[ Calhir nods. He was a smaller fish in a much smaller pond, but still... prized enough that he knows what it's like to have an image you were given to uphold. ]
I'll take the white. What about you?
[ He's assuming they're pouring for each other here. ]
I wonder, should I be flattered or insulted that you doff the cloak of dignity so quickly with me?
[ That bare hint of a smile again. He's teasing. ]
[ The first sensation Calhir notes as he wakes is, pleasantly enough, the prickling warmth of sunlight against his eyelids. Less fortunately - a trend that will continue - these are not the first rays of dawn rousing him to peaceful morning, but the weightier light of the fully risen sun, no doubt a few hours into trying to raise him. And he has little time to dwell on the difference as he takes stock of various other sensations - a dull but insistent sense that his brain has taken issue with the confines of his skull, a dry mouth, the slight stiffness that comes with having fallen asleep bent over a piece of furniture.
The last of these does at least lead into the single more pleasant sensation - the scent of Youko. Followed by the sight, as he prises his eyelids apart, of the tangled mess of red that is her hair.
...and as he begins to question how they would have gotten themselves in this state (and why they wouldn't be more comfortably naked, if they'd spent the night together) he remembers. The bet. Three drinks for every one of hers hadn't even felt like challenging himself, back when he's said it, but evidently things hadn't been quite as easy as he'd imagined. Youko had lasted a lot longer than...
Actually, he can't seem to remember how long Youko had lasted. But he must have won, right???
He groans and props himself up on his elbows, taking stock of his companion. ]
[As for her majesty, Youko is still asleep despite the harsh light of day heating her skin, curled up under a sheet half-undressed, hair and half a pillow acting as a cushion for her head, sword within reach as ever.
There is one guarantee that she will be feeling better than Calhir, and it is the gem grasped in her palm, glowing blue, easing away the aura of hurt she should be waking into. The real trick of how she trained up her tolerance and can drink with the monster of En.
His groaning and the feel of him starting to move around is just enough to make Youko uncurl a little, and blearily peek at him from over her shoulder, just green eyes and a frown from within the tangled mop of her red hair. Her first conscious thought is one of confusion as to why he is slung off the bed that way.
Sitting up with some effort, she scoots closer to the wall and further into the shadow the canopy provides, taking all the sheet she is wrapped in with her, and pats the mattress beside her expectantly before laying back down.
It is only after laying back down that she remembers the challenge and entirely too many drinks that led here. But squint as she may at the wall ahead of her, there is a point where her memory falls off. Drink for drink and then nothing. She rolls onto her back a little to look at Calhir, hoping looking at him might jog something, remind her of his face when he had to tap out maybe? But there's nothing.]
[ Another groan, rumbling and disconsolate. But he does rouse himself enough to get his legs under him and then onto the mattress enough to stretch his sorry form out next to Youko and plop unceremoniously back down.
An action that, if this were a water bed or the like, would probably result in the Empress catching way more air than she should be first thing in the morning. As it is, the bed echoes his discontent back at him. ]
...good morning.
[ He looks like he's considering saying more, but then decides that the effort is not warranted. Instead he wriggles in next to her, burying his face in her chest, that being the most appealing available method to block out the light and revive the possibility of passing back into the relative comfort of sleep. ]
[The weight of his crash landing does bounce her slightly, leaving her facing him and slightly pouting about being dislodged from her comfortable little shrimp curl. She stretches her arms and legs all the way out with a satisfied whimper before her chest is unceremoniously turned into a pillow.
She regards him for a moment, watching him hiding from the light in her breasts of all places, and bows her head to give a kiss to his almost certainly throbbing temple, nuzzling her face briefly in his feathers before slumping back. There are curtains on the bed they could draw shut, black out this little space and warn off any curious maids or kirin peeking in, but Youko's arms aren't long enough to reach the ties, and she's not awake enough for long sentences.
Instead, she decides to gently press the warm gem in her hand to his cheek, roll the smooth surface idly back and forth against his cheekbone while it glows and ebbs away his liquor-induced suffering. She also bothers to draw up her knees and untangle some of the sheet from around her legs, draping it around his head and shoulders.
Satisfied he has a little more protection from the light, she hums sleepily, eyes drifting shut again.]
[ It seems entirely reasonable to him to just say 'no'. No matter how sturdy Youko is, she's human and a quarter of his weight. There really shouldn't be any doubt about the outcome. But honesty is the best policy, especially with lovers, and it does help his commitment to that particular principle that she's tending him like this. ]
I... don't remember.
[ He mumbles into her chest, voice even more distorted by the gem pressed against his face. But it's probably understandable enough in the end. ]
Thanks...
[ His wings somewhat haltingly spread out, covering her in turn. He's not in any shape to do anything with the bed curtains, either, but this is a little easier. ]
[He gets a soft hum out of her, acknowledging his thanks as she rolls the jewel slowly back and forth, following along the curve of his cheek and down into the hollow. Even as she moves it, she can feel it lifting all the lingering weariness and nausea off her shoulders, but it returns none of the final score.
With a bit of difficulty, she shifts enough under the weight of Calhir to peek at him under the sheet, and comfortably bend down enough to kiss the crown of his head.]
(( In which we impatiently skip closer to more smut from this scenario.))
[ It had been a long wait to come down from the mountain. Not just for the storm to break, but for the sun to rise high and the air to warm; flight was constant exposure to wind and after the soaking Youko's clothes had gotten Calhir remained hesitant to move her until it was as warm as it was likely to get. Though marred by his worry it had been companionable, holding her close, the thwarted desire not so unpleasant when he had that and the promises they'd made.
If he was to be frustrated it would be now, as they returned, flying down the palace courtyard. They were late, and bedraggled, and sure enough the court turned out in force to find out what had happened. He would have like to just sneak off to Youko's bedchambers, but it didn't seem very responsible... and he was fairly sure they would have been caught soon enough anyway, under the circumstances.
Still, he never quite knew what to do at times like this, when he was at Youko's side and the courtiers showed up. It was tempting to retreat and leave her to it, since there was no point in him trying to butt into the conversation, but here and now he had a lingering sense that his job of seeing her safely home wasn't quite complete. ]
[Landing in the rokushin courtyard as opposed to at the Forbidden Gate, or gods forfend, the courtyard near the ministries, meant all the courtiers who poured out for their reappearance were the very ones trusted to walk and serve within their empress' private quarters.
Gyokuyou led them and though the chief handmaiden would never scold her mistress, the worried face she pulled turning to relief was enough to draw out Youko's swift apology and explanation. This was followed by the immediate suggestion of fetching the Taiho, an idea and complication Youko rapidly dissuaded her of, stating that they were tired and hungry, and how they should likely eat a meal with meat in it which Keiki shouldn't be present for. The last was the flimsiest excuse, but as her word was law, there was little for them to do but send word of her return and the suggestion that the empress and her kirin have tea once she was rested.
The last of her requests was for the private bath in her quarters to be filled, the food to be left on the table in her antechamber, and for everyone to retire with her apologies for worrying them. The last point got a fair amount of pushback from Gyokuyou, the usually mild woman insisting it would be against protocol for the guard to withdraw. The compromise became their stations being moved to what Youko considered a respectable distance from her chambers.
There would likely be some whispers about the Imperial Kei's guest and the lack of quarters made up for him, but not today. She would not hear them.
Today, everyone moved as Youko asked of them, and she was allowed to fall into the quiet next to Calhir while her servants finished filling the basin of her bath with hot water. It wasn't quite as comfortable it had been flying home, held tight against him in the wind, and maybe that is because of the loss of connection. Maybe that is why she slips her hand around his fingers.]
[ In truth, he'd had that feeling - 'we made it' - a while ago, when they'd descended out of the high mountains. The rest had been comfortable for him, just as she had thought. Or maybe the emphasis was on the 'we', and this very moment. Because- ]
I'm amazed you had the energy to hold them off. I thought I'd have to try my luck sneaking in after they let you sleep.
[ And he wasn't sure that would have led to anything, at that, because... he did think she'd honestly need her sleep, after what they'd been through. But here she was, getting things ready for them. And rather obviously too, from his perspective. It did have the effect of making him feel... wanted. And eager. Enough so that he had to watch how he stood around the attendants. Wouldn't do to have them see him hanging around half-hard ogling the empress... ]
[Even if she is being too obvious, she doesn't care. The rokushin is her home now. If she wants to fight in the gardens, she has the authority. If she wants to drink on the roof, she has the authority. If she wants her servants and guards far enough away so they have some privacy, she has the authority.
And there isn't long to wait thankfully. Her servants clear out of her quarters in record time after delivering the last of the bathwater and the covered platters of food. She can hear Gyokuyou's faint well-wishing from the entryway, a soft 'Please take your ease,' before the doors shut and the sound of footsteps ebb away.
Her hand tightens briefly on his, a smile blooming on her face at the mental image of Calhir trying to sneak in.]
I don't know if I would have had the heart to wake you if you were asleep. But to be by your side, yes.
[ He draws their hands up - far up, for her - and kisses her fingers, slender between his. His eyes study her face, eager to know her desires. If she wasn't just off days of travel, if he had a little more experience of her, he might have swept her up and carried her to bed then and there - something of that desire shows in his eyes, the gold shining down at her. But as things are, he's happy for her to take her time and enjoy... everything in front of her right now, in the order she wishes. ]
[This is the problem with such new territory. She isn't clear on the signals and boundary lines that come with it, so she stands there just this side of helpless as he presses kisses to her fingers and looks down at her with hunger in his eyes. Maybe what they talked about in the cave — maybe the way he touched her in the cave — is too present for any other outcome in this moment.]
I don't want you going hungry... but those platters do keep hot for ages.
[No matter what they do, they can't stand on the veranda forever so she heads in, gently pulling him along after. Not wanting to separate even for the handful of steps it takes to enter her quarters properly.]
[Above the Sea of Clouds, it is all too easy to forget that the seasons have bent to the brutal lash of winter. The bitter cold rolling over the land, the fallow fields, the snowpacked villages and cities are kept out of sight by the skyline, and out of mind by well-practiced ministers. Less so by nascent rulers. Even less so while visiting foreign soil.
In Tai, only having just returned kirin and ruler both to the throne, only a few steps into recovering from civil war and disorder, the cold and grey is almost a predictable companion. Though even when it was in the midst of a long and stable rule, unquestionably blessed by Heaven, the outer kingdom was reported to be frigid. Glacial. Yet the reinvestiture of the Imperial Tai was something worth braving the elements and celebrating. The climate, both literal and political, necessitated heavier travel preparations; with delegations from En, Han, and Kei, each with their respective kirin and ruler, at a time where youma activity hadn't begun to earnestly peter out, the increase in guards among each entourage was to be expected.
That, and the financial straits of the kingdom, had sadly meant superfluous personnel were not free to accompany the delegations. For En, this meant Rakushun was allowed to continue his studies unimpeded by being dragged across the ocean to Hakkei Palace and the ensuing anxieties of meeting too many grand personages. For Kei, that meant there was no allotment for Shoukei or Suzu on this outing, leaving Youko bereft of two of her closest confidants and a font of court etiquette delivered in shorthand. It also meant leaving someone else behind.
Or would have if a certain stubborn young woman hadn't interrogated the right people to learn about the capital city and what inns might be suitable to host an important vassal during the summit. Which is how and why a suite had been secured for Calhir in the brothel quarter, something tucked away behind the telltale green pillars with its own private courtyard.
A courtyard currently blanketed in the dark of night and downy white, still except for the fall of snow and a visitor bundled up in what somehow feels like too few layers, wading through the hip-deep snow and longing for the braziers in the villa, watching puffs of breath condense and hang in the air.]
[ In the event Youko would have found him difficult to leave behind, whatever her budget said. Travel is when he feels most useful to her, when she sheds some of the edifice of her court and a single self-appointed scout and bodyguard might actually make some difference. And by the same token, it is when he can feel a little more alone with her. Maybe that is selfishness, but he feels it's within the jealousy to be allowed a lover.
So he'd have come along on his own, if that was what it took. But it matters that he didn't have to, because she took the time to find a way. And it does make him... easier to find, than if he'd gone following after her on his own. Here he has an address instead of haunting the skies and rooftops of the city at large.
...though he still does some of that, it seems. There's a soft 'whumf' as some of the accumulated snow falls from the roof to the courtyard, adding to the drifts, and then another - louder, but still muffled - as Calhir himself drops down in front of his visitor.
If they're to compete for who's more ill-dressed for the weather he'd certainly be the winner. Not being in her actual entourage he's wearing his usual style, which would strike modern human eyes as 'beach-ready' and would probably be outright scandalous in a great many times and places, except only that he's just alien enough - and 'clothed' enough in scale and feather - that most who set eyes on him find other things to worry about than measuring him to that standard of propriety.
Just in case anyone was tempted to think he fell out of a heavenly pool party above, a dusting of snow crystal clings to him, proving to the doubtful that this is in fact his cold-weather dress, taken out into the falling snow entirely on purpose by a lucky devil who feels so little of the chill as to barely be aware of it.
He plucks his visitor off the ground, lifting her feet up above the level of the snow. Or at least, he assumes it's 'her', and Youko in particular. The impatient, improper greeting could get very awkward if it isn't. ]
Just you?
[ A little worry, a little gratitude. Cold and late and far from home to be wandering the streets alone, but he does appreciate time together. ]
[There is a split-second flare of anxiety when Calhir drops in front of her, old reflexes and the myriad warnings from Keiki and her guard pulled to focus, but it fades just as quickly when she claps eyes on him. As she loses her feet, picked up and left with her winter boots dangling just above the snow, she shakes the fur-lined hood of her cloak back, exposing a frostnipped face and exactly how many snowflakes decided to tag along on the flight down in her hair.]
Just me. [Teasing:] Disappointed?
[The heavy sleeves and cloak of her outfit mean there is more restriction than usual to her movements, so it takes Youko quite a bit of shifting to get her arms — and her chilled, bare fingers — up to hold onto his shoulders. She fixes him with a small, apologetic smile for the shock of her hands, habit more than necessity given his own clothing and the unhealthy dusting of frost on him.]
One of the shirei are skulking around too. Why aren't you inside?
Worried, surely. Who knows what you'll do to me away from prying eyes?
[ His retort comes out slightly distracted, as his eyes are drawn to... what else, her hair. The frozen white of tagalong snowflakes is a brilliant contrast to her warm crimson, like she's been set with jewels. A worthy embellishment to one of his favorite sights. Yes that is actually how he thinks about her hair, and he isn't sorry.
He might have stared a little longer, but he does notice the coolness of her touch, a reminder that no matter how picturesque a blizzard victim he thinks she makes, she's probably eager to be inside. He pulls her closer, cradled in his arms, as he turns to make for the entryway. Despite his weight - and hers on top of it - those wide splayed feet of his don't sink as deep into the drifts, and the walk is more loping over the snow than shuffling through it. ]
I was watching the town. There isn't much to do inside.
[ There wasn't much to watch, either, with the snow coming down and most everyone inside - even the pleasure district felt the chill, it seemed. But that sounded mildly more reliable of him than 'playing in the snow.'
He moves through the entryway, and lets Youko to her feet. No snow is better than snow, of course, but it's not the relief it should be - his indifference to the cold and 'watchfulness' have made him careless with the hearth and it's burned down to embers, an oversight he realizes only as he brings her in and sends him over to throw a couple logs on and try to coax them to light with his breath. ]
Haven't got anything that dastardly planned, you know.
[With the way his words linger and drift, she knows exactly what he's fixated on and she shoots him with a cheeky smile, cocking her head to the side, dislodging curls and snow both. The look is the only passing comment she has however, too content to be snug in his arms, watching the easy skimming steps he takes where she would have sunk in to her knees.
Youko hums, thinking, and presses herself just a little deeper into his hold, propping her chin on his chest. Even if this situation was the only way to keep Calhir nearby and her own delegation clear of a diplomatic breach, she didn't like the idea of stranding him alone in an unfamiliar, snowed-in town. Part of her choosing this particular place had been the Imperial En assuring her he could wander the main halls for conversation or to join in the challenging games of wit the courtesans were versed in.]
We could see what shops are open in the morning? Before I'm expected to be a dignified guest.
[Feet back on solid ground, she taps any remaining snow off her boots and shuffles after him, tucking her cold fingers into the sleeves of her robes, watching him try to revive the dying hearth. Nothing speaks to the wealth of this establishment like using firewood when the whole of Tai relies on coal or thorn oak stones. She catches herself beginning to wonder if that was a choice to protect the sensibilities of refined guests or a hint on how badly the people have to compensate the fuel shortages still, and gives a shake of her head before leaning unhelpfully against Calhir's side. Didn't she come down the mountain to put up the Imperial Kei for awhile?]
[ He'd roll his eyes at the cheeky look, but she knows how to fix them in place, pouring out that cascade of red. When she nestles against him it quiets any further thoughts of repartee, and he doesn't respond until she floats her suggestion: ]
Explore the town together? Will we be going like this?
[ Her in his arms, he means, since it seems doubtful the snow will have diminished by early morning. He doesn't by any means sound averse to the idea, but there is a question in there about just how much she can let slip the role of the dignified guest while making personal visits.
He's silent as he tends the fire, but when she leans against him he wonders whether it's just affection or whether she's seeking his warmth. ]
Most of the evening. I wasn't thinking of the fire....
[ Apologetic, but he puts his arm around her as he stands, licks of flame announcing success. If not the immediate warming of the room - the impressive suite with its high ceiling suits his physical stature and whatever of her social position rubs off on him, but it won't heat as readily as more cramped quarters. ]
Come to bed? I'd be a poor consort if I couldn't at least keep you warm there.
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So he just picks out the biggest building, an open window with some light, and drops right onto the sill to take a look. If he happens to luck out and find her, easy enough. In the much more likely even that it's someone else... Youko had said no one would be put out by this kind of visit. Or at least, that was how he had understood her.
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It isn't that the security of Kinpa Palace is lax or neglectful by any stretch of the imagination, but the Daiboku — that is, the Captain of the Palace Guard — has a good grasp of just how Youko's acquaintances tend to turn up. Official visits from the Emperor and Taiho of En are stuffy and can be unpleasant; not the atmosphere for drinking in the garden, playing games, and talking into the small hours of the night. At some point, it just became common practice to open the forbidden gate for them when they decided to show up.
That said, she did warn the servants as best she could for Calhir's unusual appearance. No need for them to get confused and sound the alarm, thinking a youma had snuck in. But there are so many buildings on the mountain that houses the imperial palace of Kei — thirty-two alone for Youko to sleep in — that there was high possibility the word didn't spread far enough fast enough.
She has done what she can on her end to make sure her guest finds the right one, having extra lanterns lit around the pillars and paths of the garden pavillion off the rokushin, her personal quarters. It lacks a clear view of the Sea of Clouds, which she favors, but it has the least obstructed view of the moon short of riding out over the sea itself. Her guest seemed interested in drinking under the stars, so that may as well be the order of things.
Youko herself is dressed down in the sort of clothes she calls comfortable and her chief lady-in-waiting would struggle to say anything positive about. This being an off-the-books meeting, and one she dressed for without help, means she doesn't have to give a fig about her dignity as an empress. She's seated at the table under the pavilion with the bottles, cups, and a sufficient number of snacks (she maybe extorted the kirin of En to get her from Hourai), waiting in the night breeze.
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Hello, Youko. I didn't think you'd be waiting for me out here. I may have scared one of your servants...
[ Calhir's courtesy may be very distant indeed from that which is in theory owed to an empress, but he isn't entirely immune to the feeling that her time is more valuable than his, so the comment comes across as slightly chastened, for underestimating her hospitality and for the delay it caused.
He's dressed perhaps a little more richly than her, but his 'caste' favors light clothing to begin with - his laced knee-length pants and apron-like top are typical. So there isn't really much of a difference there. ]
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I'll have someone deliver rice cakes and wine to the staff. I'd do it myself, but that might frighten them more. [She huffs a little at that, it clearly something she struggles with. Then, she starts a little, remembering herself, gesturing to the chair across from her.] Sit down, please. I owe you a drink.
[There are ceramic bottles lined up nicely on the table accompanied by matching ceramic cups, and low ceramic dishes of snacks — round fried flatbreads filled with mince, sweet small diamond-shaped rice cakes, fresh cut peaches and pears, peanuts mixed with spicy rice cracker shards. She wasn't sure what he'd like, but if none of her choices suit him, they can always go on an adventure to the kitchens.]
I'll admit there's only so much I can set up myself, but I hope you'll find it satisfactory.
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[ In her staff she has people who are too frightened... and here, on the other hand, someone who could perhaps stand to be just a little less blunt with his phrasing, even if his intention was to sympathize. But he's not trying to be standoffish - if anything he finds that sunny disposition she's showing to be charming - and he sits with her easily at the invitation. ]
When you say it like that I want to press my claim again. [ An amused twist crosses his lips. ] To that mystery bottle you've hidden away. But I did relinquish that, didn't I? So tell me what we are drinking. Or who recommended it, or where you found it.
[ Since he can hardly expect her to necessarily know the provenance of every bottle in her stores. ]
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[She relaxes into her seat, the tension inherent in her mimicry dissipating.]
But I catch your warning. I never want to be someone my people are afraid of anyways.
[He gets a smile for turning the conversation to the volume of liquor she's unearthed.]
You're never seeing that bottle, but you're welcome to these. We have white liquor, yellow wine, wolfberry wine, and cassia wine.
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I'll take the white. What about you?
[ He's assuming they're pouring for each other here. ]
I wonder, should I be flattered or insulted that you doff the cloak of dignity so quickly with me?
[ That bare hint of a smile again. He's teasing. ]
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the bet
The last of these does at least lead into the single more pleasant sensation - the scent of Youko. Followed by the sight, as he prises his eyelids apart, of the tangled mess of red that is her hair.
...and as he begins to question how they would have gotten themselves in this state (and why they wouldn't be more comfortably naked, if they'd spent the night together) he remembers. The bet. Three drinks for every one of hers hadn't even felt like challenging himself, back when he's said it, but evidently things hadn't been quite as easy as he'd imagined. Youko had lasted a lot longer than...
Actually, he can't seem to remember how long Youko had lasted. But he must have won, right???
He groans and props himself up on his elbows, taking stock of his companion. ]
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There is one guarantee that she will be feeling better than Calhir, and it is the gem grasped in her palm, glowing blue, easing away the aura of hurt she should be waking into. The real trick of how she trained up her tolerance and can drink with the monster of En.
His groaning and the feel of him starting to move around is just enough to make Youko uncurl a little, and blearily peek at him from over her shoulder, just green eyes and a frown from within the tangled mop of her red hair. Her first conscious thought is one of confusion as to why he is slung off the bed that way.
Sitting up with some effort, she scoots closer to the wall and further into the shadow the canopy provides, taking all the sheet she is wrapped in with her, and pats the mattress beside her expectantly before laying back down.
It is only after laying back down that she remembers the challenge and entirely too many drinks that led here. But squint as she may at the wall ahead of her, there is a point where her memory falls off. Drink for drink and then nothing. She rolls onto her back a little to look at Calhir, hoping looking at him might jog something, remind her of his face when he had to tap out maybe? But there's nothing.]
... good morning?
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An action that, if this were a water bed or the like, would probably result in the Empress catching way more air than she should be first thing in the morning. As it is, the bed echoes his discontent back at him. ]
...good morning.
[ He looks like he's considering saying more, but then decides that the effort is not warranted. Instead he wriggles in next to her, burying his face in her chest, that being the most appealing available method to block out the light and revive the possibility of passing back into the relative comfort of sleep. ]
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She regards him for a moment, watching him hiding from the light in her breasts of all places, and bows her head to give a kiss to his almost certainly throbbing temple, nuzzling her face briefly in his feathers before slumping back. There are curtains on the bed they could draw shut, black out this little space and warn off any curious maids or kirin peeking in, but Youko's arms aren't long enough to reach the ties, and she's not awake enough for long sentences.
Instead, she decides to gently press the warm gem in her hand to his cheek, roll the smooth surface idly back and forth against his cheekbone while it glows and ebbs away his liquor-induced suffering. She also bothers to draw up her knees and untangle some of the sheet from around her legs, draping it around his head and shoulders.
Satisfied he has a little more protection from the light, she hums sleepily, eyes drifting shut again.]
Did... I win?
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I... don't remember.
[ He mumbles into her chest, voice even more distorted by the gem pressed against his face. But it's probably understandable enough in the end. ]
Thanks...
[ His wings somewhat haltingly spread out, covering her in turn. He's not in any shape to do anything with the bed curtains, either, but this is a little easier. ]
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With a bit of difficulty, she shifts enough under the weight of Calhir to peek at him under the sheet, and comfortably bend down enough to kiss the crown of his head.]
... what if I'm generous and we say you won?
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after the mountain
[ It had been a long wait to come down from the mountain. Not just for the storm to break, but for the sun to rise high and the air to warm; flight was constant exposure to wind and after the soaking Youko's clothes had gotten Calhir remained hesitant to move her until it was as warm as it was likely to get. Though marred by his worry it had been companionable, holding her close, the thwarted desire not so unpleasant when he had that and the promises they'd made.
If he was to be frustrated it would be now, as they returned, flying down the palace courtyard. They were late, and bedraggled, and sure enough the court turned out in force to find out what had happened. He would have like to just sneak off to Youko's bedchambers, but it didn't seem very responsible... and he was fairly sure they would have been caught soon enough anyway, under the circumstances.
Still, he never quite knew what to do at times like this, when he was at Youko's side and the courtiers showed up. It was tempting to retreat and leave her to it, since there was no point in him trying to butt into the conversation, but here and now he had a lingering sense that his job of seeing her safely home wasn't quite complete. ]
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Gyokuyou led them and though the chief handmaiden would never scold her mistress, the worried face she pulled turning to relief was enough to draw out Youko's swift apology and explanation. This was followed by the immediate suggestion of fetching the Taiho, an idea and complication Youko rapidly dissuaded her of, stating that they were tired and hungry, and how they should likely eat a meal with meat in it which Keiki shouldn't be present for. The last was the flimsiest excuse, but as her word was law, there was little for them to do but send word of her return and the suggestion that the empress and her kirin have tea once she was rested.
The last of her requests was for the private bath in her quarters to be filled, the food to be left on the table in her antechamber, and for everyone to retire with her apologies for worrying them. The last point got a fair amount of pushback from Gyokuyou, the usually mild woman insisting it would be against protocol for the guard to withdraw. The compromise became their stations being moved to what Youko considered a respectable distance from her chambers.
There would likely be some whispers about the Imperial Kei's guest and the lack of quarters made up for him, but not today. She would not hear them.
Today, everyone moved as Youko asked of them, and she was allowed to fall into the quiet next to Calhir while her servants finished filling the basin of her bath with hot water. It wasn't quite as comfortable it had been flying home, held tight against him in the wind, and maybe that is because of the loss of connection. Maybe that is why she slips her hand around his fingers.]
We made it back.
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I'm amazed you had the energy to hold them off. I thought I'd have to try my luck sneaking in after they let you sleep.
[ And he wasn't sure that would have led to anything, at that, because... he did think she'd honestly need her sleep, after what they'd been through. But here she was, getting things ready for them. And rather obviously too, from his perspective. It did have the effect of making him feel... wanted. And eager. Enough so that he had to watch how he stood around the attendants. Wouldn't do to have them see him hanging around half-hard ogling the empress... ]
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[Even if she is being too obvious, she doesn't care. The rokushin is her home now. If she wants to fight in the gardens, she has the authority. If she wants to drink on the roof, she has the authority. If she wants her servants and guards far enough away so they have some privacy, she has the authority.
And there isn't long to wait thankfully. Her servants clear out of her quarters in record time after delivering the last of the bathwater and the covered platters of food. She can hear Gyokuyou's faint well-wishing from the entryway, a soft 'Please take your ease,' before the doors shut and the sound of footsteps ebb away.
Her hand tightens briefly on his, a smile blooming on her face at the mental image of Calhir trying to sneak in.]
Would you have really tried that?
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[ He draws their hands up - far up, for her - and kisses her fingers, slender between his. His eyes study her face, eager to know her desires. If she wasn't just off days of travel, if he had a little more experience of her, he might have swept her up and carried her to bed then and there - something of that desire shows in his eyes, the gold shining down at her. But as things are, he's happy for her to take her time and enjoy... everything in front of her right now, in the order she wishes. ]
The food smelled good coming in.
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I don't want you going hungry... but those platters do keep hot for ages.
[No matter what they do, they can't stand on the veranda forever so she heads in, gently pulling him along after. Not wanting to separate even for the handful of steps it takes to enter her quarters properly.]
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body heat
In Tai, only having just returned kirin and ruler both to the throne, only a few steps into recovering from civil war and disorder, the cold and grey is almost a predictable companion. Though even when it was in the midst of a long and stable rule, unquestionably blessed by Heaven, the outer kingdom was reported to be frigid. Glacial. Yet the reinvestiture of the Imperial Tai was something worth braving the elements and celebrating. The climate, both literal and political, necessitated heavier travel preparations; with delegations from En, Han, and Kei, each with their respective kirin and ruler, at a time where youma activity hadn't begun to earnestly peter out, the increase in guards among each entourage was to be expected.
That, and the financial straits of the kingdom, had sadly meant superfluous personnel were not free to accompany the delegations. For En, this meant Rakushun was allowed to continue his studies unimpeded by being dragged across the ocean to Hakkei Palace and the ensuing anxieties of meeting too many grand personages. For Kei, that meant there was no allotment for Shoukei or Suzu on this outing, leaving Youko bereft of two of her closest confidants and a font of court etiquette delivered in shorthand. It also meant leaving someone else behind.
Or would have if a certain stubborn young woman hadn't interrogated the right people to learn about the capital city and what inns might be suitable to host an important vassal during the summit. Which is how and why a suite had been secured for Calhir in the brothel quarter, something tucked away behind the telltale green pillars with its own private courtyard.
A courtyard currently blanketed in the dark of night and downy white, still except for the fall of snow and a visitor bundled up in what somehow feels like too few layers, wading through the hip-deep snow and longing for the braziers in the villa, watching puffs of breath condense and hang in the air.]
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So he'd have come along on his own, if that was what it took. But it matters that he didn't have to, because she took the time to find a way. And it does make him... easier to find, than if he'd gone following after her on his own. Here he has an address instead of haunting the skies and rooftops of the city at large.
...though he still does some of that, it seems. There's a soft 'whumf' as some of the accumulated snow falls from the roof to the courtyard, adding to the drifts, and then another - louder, but still muffled - as Calhir himself drops down in front of his visitor.
If they're to compete for who's more ill-dressed for the weather he'd certainly be the winner. Not being in her actual entourage he's wearing his usual style, which would strike modern human eyes as 'beach-ready' and would probably be outright scandalous in a great many times and places, except only that he's just alien enough - and 'clothed' enough in scale and feather - that most who set eyes on him find other things to worry about than measuring him to that standard of propriety.
Just in case anyone was tempted to think he fell out of a heavenly pool party above, a dusting of snow crystal clings to him, proving to the doubtful that this is in fact his cold-weather dress, taken out into the falling snow entirely on purpose by a lucky devil who feels so little of the chill as to barely be aware of it.
He plucks his visitor off the ground, lifting her feet up above the level of the snow. Or at least, he assumes it's 'her', and Youko in particular. The impatient, improper greeting could get very awkward if it isn't. ]
Just you?
[ A little worry, a little gratitude. Cold and late and far from home to be wandering the streets alone, but he does appreciate time together. ]
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Just me. [Teasing:] Disappointed?
[The heavy sleeves and cloak of her outfit mean there is more restriction than usual to her movements, so it takes Youko quite a bit of shifting to get her arms — and her chilled, bare fingers — up to hold onto his shoulders. She fixes him with a small, apologetic smile for the shock of her hands, habit more than necessity given his own clothing and the unhealthy dusting of frost on him.]
One of the shirei are skulking around too. Why aren't you inside?
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[ His retort comes out slightly distracted, as his eyes are drawn to... what else, her hair. The frozen white of tagalong snowflakes is a brilliant contrast to her warm crimson, like she's been set with jewels. A worthy embellishment to one of his favorite sights. Yes that is actually how he thinks about her hair, and he isn't sorry.
He might have stared a little longer, but he does notice the coolness of her touch, a reminder that no matter how picturesque a blizzard victim he thinks she makes, she's probably eager to be inside. He pulls her closer, cradled in his arms, as he turns to make for the entryway. Despite his weight - and hers on top of it - those wide splayed feet of his don't sink as deep into the drifts, and the walk is more loping over the snow than shuffling through it. ]
I was watching the town. There isn't much to do inside.
[ There wasn't much to watch, either, with the snow coming down and most everyone inside - even the pleasure district felt the chill, it seemed. But that sounded mildly more reliable of him than 'playing in the snow.'
He moves through the entryway, and lets Youko to her feet. No snow is better than snow, of course, but it's not the relief it should be - his indifference to the cold and 'watchfulness' have made him careless with the hearth and it's burned down to embers, an oversight he realizes only as he brings her in and sends him over to throw a couple logs on and try to coax them to light with his breath. ]
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[With the way his words linger and drift, she knows exactly what he's fixated on and she shoots him with a cheeky smile, cocking her head to the side, dislodging curls and snow both. The look is the only passing comment she has however, too content to be snug in his arms, watching the easy skimming steps he takes where she would have sunk in to her knees.
Youko hums, thinking, and presses herself just a little deeper into his hold, propping her chin on his chest. Even if this situation was the only way to keep Calhir nearby and her own delegation clear of a diplomatic breach, she didn't like the idea of stranding him alone in an unfamiliar, snowed-in town. Part of her choosing this particular place had been the Imperial En assuring her he could wander the main halls for conversation or to join in the challenging games of wit the courtesans were versed in.]
We could see what shops are open in the morning? Before I'm expected to be a dignified guest.
[Feet back on solid ground, she taps any remaining snow off her boots and shuffles after him, tucking her cold fingers into the sleeves of her robes, watching him try to revive the dying hearth. Nothing speaks to the wealth of this establishment like using firewood when the whole of Tai relies on coal or thorn oak stones. She catches herself beginning to wonder if that was a choice to protect the sensibilities of refined guests or a hint on how badly the people have to compensate the fuel shortages still, and gives a shake of her head before leaning unhelpfully against Calhir's side. Didn't she come down the mountain to put up the Imperial Kei for awhile?]
Were you out there watching the town for awhile?
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Explore the town together? Will we be going like this?
[ Her in his arms, he means, since it seems doubtful the snow will have diminished by early morning. He doesn't by any means sound averse to the idea, but there is a question in there about just how much she can let slip the role of the dignified guest while making personal visits.
He's silent as he tends the fire, but when she leans against him he wonders whether it's just affection or whether she's seeking his warmth. ]
Most of the evening. I wasn't thinking of the fire....
[ Apologetic, but he puts his arm around her as he stands, licks of flame announcing success. If not the immediate warming of the room - the impressive suite with its high ceiling suits his physical stature and whatever of her social position rubs off on him, but it won't heat as readily as more cramped quarters. ]
Come to bed? I'd be a poor consort if I couldn't at least keep you warm there.
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