It is midmorning, the guild hall at the Forks is already coming to life, Riders are attending to supplies, equipment, the smell of Cecil cooking bacon wafts through the halls.
But in the far wing of rooms, Sedriks' door is closed and silent. The bard having been carried there after the magical exertion of opening a gateway between trees. Lute prowls outside the door, occasionally scratching at the wood to no avail.
Azais discretely dismisses herself from breakfast grabbing a small piece of leftover bacon on the way out of the kitchen. She walks towards Sedrik's room after noticing he hadn't surfaced yet, though she wasn't surprised after the night they had encountered. As she approaches his door she scoops up the pacing feline feeding him the bacon, silently she enters the room.
The room is in disarray, the pile of Kruekella armor hadn't made it back to a heavy armor rack stand, instead it lay scattered over the floor. The viola sat on a short stool, and an array of weapons was strewn across the heavy cedar desk. Ceridwen had fallen asleep face down still half-dressed in leathers and the thick black binder.
She has no injuries, except for a splash of blood from her left palm, staining the linen pillow.
Azais had never seen her friend so vulnerable, lying there asleep with no apparent awareness of her presence. Having spoken to Oadira she knew that although her friend was magikally burnt out, she wasn't at all physically injured. Quietly crossing the room Lute jumps from her shoulder to nestle next to his master.
She sat on the bed next to the sleeping bard, gently brushing some hair off her face Azais spoke softly "Ceridwen."
Ceridwen's eyes flutter slightly at her name, but seems still deeply asleep.
"Ceridwen" Azais speaks more loudly this time, shaking her shoulder carefully.
There is a low and long groan, before finally Ceridwen blinks away the grogginess, she tries to focus, stretching lithely. "Who?"
"Well hello there sleepyhead," Azais teases.
Ceridwen blinks, "Azais? What?" And she releases a cleverly concealed poniard from her right hand, letting it tumble off the bed and clatter to the floor.
Azais raises an eyebrow, not at all surprised seeing as she slept the same way. "Yes. How are you feeling?"
"Like a carriage rolled right over me." The duelist frowns as she becomes aware of the heavy weight of leathers, and starts pulling at the lacings and snaps to doff them. "Did I sleep all night in this?"
"it appears so. What do you remember"
Ceridwen flings the leather underarmor off and throws it towards the armor rack. "Fulci. He was in my dreams. Taunting me."
Azais huffs through her nose angrily, "I really hate that prick" Locking eyes with intensity Azais falters a moment, slightly overwhelmed by all the questions she has. "I never knew the Lodge had SUCH power...or that you were so deeply rooted with it."
"What do you mean? I just asked it for a way out. It also warned me, while I was playing at the party. Said Fulci was watching us, knew we were there..."
"I mean you opened up a portal with enough power to wrench us from the grips of Valun Fulci, that is no mere accomplishment"
"I suppose, as you say. You and Quiz know far better than I."
"I have been in touch my with magik more directly than you I suppose, but even I can’t fathom that kind of power...at least not without owing something equally as powerful."
Ceridwen rises half upright, wincing slightly from stiffness. "I just ask and the songs come, I don't think it's a trade?"
"Fascinating...." murmurs the Elf, before she trails off.
"Are you worried about me?"
"I’m not sure. Your magik appears to be gathered in such a different way to mine. I draw my power from the Witch Queen, so am essentially in her debt every time I use it."
Ceridwen shrugs helplessly, swinging her feet to the floor and rising unsteadily.
"As I said, I don't think that's the nature of it, but nothing....speaks or demands of me it seems."
"I know you have been connected to the Lodge your entire life, is it only recently it started sharing the tunes with you?"
"Yes, after we walked through it. Before then, I can't be sure. I certainly never felt it since that....night...long ago."
"I don’t know if my feels are worry or envy," Azais laughs, "being in debt to anyone is not a feeling I enjoy. When you have recovered, I want to ask a favour of you Ceridwen..." a pause, knowing her request is great.
Ceridwen dunks her head into a basin of water, cleaning off caked blood and running fingers through tangles and snares in her hair before turning. "Yes?"
"Would you ever consider taking me to The Lodge so I can .... speak with it? I know it is linked to great power, even to the Witch Queen, ever after we rescued Ioleth from there. I want to learn more about where my powers come from and what kind of God the Witch Queen is...more than just the rumours I hear"
Ceridwen blinks and not just from the water, taken aback slightly. "I can....take you to the Lodge certainly. In it's own fashion. I don't know if you'll be able to...speak exactly. As I said, it does not speak to me or make demands of me, it simply is me. But if you wish to ask, I can take you to a place where you can attempt."
"I don’t expect a verbal as such, I was hoping it may communicate through you?"
"If it sees fit to? I suppose that could happen, I don't have a lot of experience with it." Ceridwen sits again on the bed, and passes the she-elf a comb carved from some large beast's bones, sitting with her back presented.
Azais takes the comb, beginning to gather her hair and brush slowly. The two sit in silence for a minute, Azais lost in thoughts of what she may learn.
As Azais combs her hair, Ceridwen closes her eyes, and after a minute, begins to quietly sing. It’s a lilting, soft song, almost a lullabye.
Shuddering slightly from a chill only she can feel she is brought back to reality, and Ceridwen's melody. "Thank you, I don’t expect a lot but I appreciate you helping me. Is there anything I can do to help you right now?"
Ceridwen stops singing, though the song seems to continue to whirl through the air. "No, I think I'm just going to continue to rest for a few hours, yesterday....was long."
"Sorry couldn't quite hear you, you’ll need to speak up" she joked, remembering the throbbing in her ear. "I seriously, hate that prick" Azais sighs.
Ceridwen's shoulders shake very slightly, with mirth "Yes. It's true." And then as the minutes stretch on her head slowly tilts down and she lays back down asleep just alongside the elf’s leg. The bard is light, almost deceptively so, and in that moment, almost a ghost of the lost young woman alights her fine features.
Mindlessly petting Lute who was nestling between the two, Azais stays there for hours watching over her friend.
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