`` inertia. [farsight]

Væna had just taken another sip of her drink when in through the door came a young pegasus she knew well, all in a rush and looking rather alive, and at first glance she was glad for the surprise.

"Farsight!" exclaimed the little mare, setting her long-stemmed glass on the bar with a flash of pink in her telekinesis. "Excellent timing," she said with a certain triteness (or perhaps an alcohol-induced mischief?) to her smile. "You've just missed him." She knew her friend would know who him was; Ikran, ever unyielding in his staunchly conservative rhetoric, had never been pleased by the fact that his daughter had developed a close friendship with the winged harrower, but with him secluded away upstairs they wouldn't have to suffer his begrudging consent.

The casual smile on Væna's face fell and the cheer in her eyes dimmed a little as she observed the expression on Farsight's face. "Oh, baby," she murmured, stepping quickly away from the bar and to his side at the door, embodying for a moment her mother, who could never resist a broken heart no matter in whose chest it resided. "What's going on?"

She couldn't easily remember another time when she'd seen the freckle-faced youth quite so distraught, and she'd known him for nearly six years by now. At first glance, she'd been glad, but now she had a much more ominous feeling in her stomach than white wine could possibly have caused.


words: 245
tags: FaunaFawn
notes: BRUH i loved it, write as much as you want! i'm trying to get into the swing of her; been writing thaumas for too long, haha! ♥

"Yeah, c'mon," she replied, using her head to indicate the bar as she turned.

It had taken her a moment to process everything he'd told her, and Væna was sure the surprise (in a less optimistic way this time than when he'd appeared in her doorway moments before) showed on her face. He's engaged.

And then:

So young.

Væna knew it was common for Talori youth to be paired off at his age, and indeed she'd known many who took up that marital mantle (but somehow the sandy-colored mare had never felt its burden on her own shoulders; a fact which brought her both relief and shame at the same time). It's just that he was so young to be given the ultimatum, and it startled her.

Væna's other friends had been given a choice, at least, and only in the most serious of circumstances...

But then there's the rub, I suppose, because it was just as he asked entry that she realized why his family might have denied him the choice. The weight of reality sank hard through her soul, like someone tossed it into the top of her mind and it just sank through her, settling in the pit of her stomach. O Star of the Seas...

As she made her way back to the bar, Væna was acutely aware of the necessity of her role as comforter here. He needed her support and her listening ear, and she had to do her best to help him work his way through this conflict. The resolution set her jaw, but only for a moment, and then she was dancing behind the swinging half-door and pulling bottles out of imbued coolers to be poured into ice-cold tumblers.

"I just got this new cider in from Onea," she called to him, worry on her face but a hopeful smile in her eyes. "Sweet as can be, made from our own apples." She meant the pink ladies they imported. Væna slid a full glass across the shiny bartop to her friend. "Try it!" And then, more seriously, "And start from the beginning. What happened? And I mean... Zenith the brewer Zenith? Zenith like the Emperor's Zenith?"


words: 364
tags: FaunaFawn
notes: awww dude thank you! i love this thread already ♥♥♥

It was a rough game, hiding her reactions from someone she'd known for so long. It was even rougher because (again) usually, she never drinks, and by now she's near the bottom of that glass of white wine.

That's the one. Good night, what kind of strings did his parents pull?

Væna knew through talk that the blue-blooded brewer led her life from a cart, conspicuously not able-bodied and fairly well-known for it. Væna was fairly certain she'd never even so much as been in the same city at the same time as Zenith (except perhaps that one time she'd interned in the royal kitchens in Inaria) but she could see now, more and more as Farsight laid out the details of his misbegotten meeting, reasons why both families might be so eager for the match.

Zenith was a common horse, with no particular blessing in her genes but Argus's birth-dominant love and her late sire's affluence. Farsight was a pegasus, and had never particularly thrived on the course of rigorous self-control favored by their herd, and so he was cursed not only by his association with a vengeful god but by his own youthful deviance as well. It was still, perhaps, a step up in society for him, but as she processed the information Væna understood how neither party might desire the other.

He quieted, and Væna took a moment to ask in her mother's sweet-molasses voice, "You hungry, honey?" before ignoring any possible answer and laying before him a plate of food. It was a formality, and nothing more, and he'd known her long enough that she'd be surprised if he was surprised. She'd been working behind the bar as he recounted his tale, assembling a plate from the unused portions of her dinner prep.

Candied cubes of acorn squash, crunchy sugar-glazed on the outside and buttery soft on the inside. Hearty winter greens full of iron and topped with dried berries, chopped nuts, and a drizzle of sweet vinaigrette. Bread-stuffing, filling and savory, made with bits of every vegetable she could find in the garden.

A plate of surplus, and an offering of the only kind Væna knew how to make.

"She wasn't pleased with you?" she asked quietly, leaning close against the bar opposite Farsight. "Or you with her?"

It still hadn't clicked for Væna that, from a perspective of pure civil rights, one shouldn't need to be talked into a legal union with another person.


words: 410
tags: FaunaFawn
notes: ♥

Væna chuckled softly at his apology. "It's okay; this is what friends are for. We keep each other from going crazy -- or, y'know, at least we try." She gave a little shrug and the look on her face was one of commiseration, because that's what he needed right now.

For a moment she flitted away and retrieved empty glasses from some patrons still at a table, and poured new drinks for the lone soul seated on the far end of the bar.

In that moment Væna imagined what her father might counsel once he heard about Farsight's betrothal. "The royal gimp and your little street-pigeon," said Ikran's voice in his daughter's head. True, he'd probably never call Zenith "the royal gimp" unless he was stone drunk (which he never was, now that he'd all but stopped drinking altogether), but Væna knew her father's brand of Talori loyalty. He'd half raised her, after all, and she half agreed with him. To this day, Væna was confused about the motives of a lot of her herdmates with regards to Talori law and cultural custom; she questioned none of it, and that quality in her made this counsel more difficult than it should have been. What could she possibly say to her friend that he hadn't already heard? He was nineteen, and though in that respect he was less experienced than she in "the ways of the world," whatever those may be, he was a bright boy and surely was aware of his options.

As she returned to his side (behind the bar again, so that she could keep an eye on her remaining customers), Væna took a sip of her wine again and finished the glass.

"I agree," she said finally. "It doesn't sound -- right. A lot of marriages don't begin for love, but if your heart isn't pure in at least an intent to do it right, then..." The little mare shook her head lightly. "I can't imagine She would bless such a corrupt house."

Gently, she swept her glass below the bar and looked him in the eye. "You don't feel you can refuse? I mean... it's definitely an ultimatum, and not a meaningful choice?"

If the choice presented him was as she feared (that is to say, if the choice was between fleeing the country and taking this bride, rather than being a choice between remaining unmarried in Aquore and taking this bride -- as it really ought to have been) then Væna would need to take care not to influence him too hard in either direction, for down both those paths lie quite serious consequences, and she could never forgive herself if the path he chose on her advice resulted in a lifetime of regret and longing for the person she'd come to regard as family.


words: 467
tags: FaunaFawn
notes: trying to explore a little more of her character with this. sorry for the light dialogue!

She flinched a little bit when he said meal of the sea. I mean really, only a little bit, just maybe noticeable in a brief, sudden tension in the cords of her neck and the hinge of her jaw, but it was a flinch and it should have surprised neither of them that she did.

Væna knew that her friend had always had trouble seeing the light of Cascade's truth, and she knew that he knew that she knew. Somehow this religious difference had never really driven any kind of wedge between them; their conversations were rarely pious, and more often than not the two were content to leave worship outside the bounds of their friendship. The friendship was more important than the difference, I suppose, and Væna chalked it up to the panic of the evening that Farsight would say something so blasphemous and clearly not be joking.

It was something she was more or less accustomed to: the twice-yearly collective intake of breath by the entire population of Aquorian secular (or doubtful) pegasi, and the terse silence which followed until one of their brethren was chosen. During the solstices, one expected to hear that silence, that waiting. Tonight it was out of character, and it surprised her.

And so she flinched.

Quietly, and as gently as she could possibly do, Væna replied, "I don't know... but I think you know who I would ask for guidance."

Cascade, of course.

He was a good boy, for all his deviations, and Væna refused to believe that if he truly put his heart behind prayer (as she'd been trying in vain to get him to do all these six long years), Cascade would ignore him. She was the Mother of the Seas, the Foam on the Waves, the Heart of the Oceans. She was so benevolent that she alone offered sanctuary without consideration to all; surely that goodwill still blessed those who sought to bring happiness and peace into this world.

But Farsight had said that Zenith was the one who was violently unreceptive, and this was what worried Væna the most. Still, she had no idea how to advise him and not make his life worse than it already appeared to be.

What she needed now was to distract him, and give him time to let the ideas sit in his head, and hope that he could find his solution after his heart had quieted a little.


words: 407
tags: FaunaFawn
notes: i'm not really sure where to take it from here -- at first i was thinking she could suggest they leave, but then i realized she's still got customers. ^^; leaving it up to you, or if you don't have any ideas either, we could time skip, or new thread, or just end it here/soon? i'm open! ♥

editing my tag because i'm retarded

Væna only half-smiled at first, and there was a distinct air of pity hanging around the look on her face, but as Farsight finished his thought her smile grew. The silliness on his face in the light of such alarming news would've struck her as wildly inappropriate if she hadn't been so damned relieved to see it there. Væna laughed, freely. "Yeah, I'll be awake. You know the drill."

---

It wasn't even immediately after he'd left that the little tawny-colored mare could let her concern overlay her own expression; for the next hour or so, she still had customers in the restaurant, and she had to play hostess. You know, come to think of it, if Væna wasn't so good at her job, she might've found a place on the stage. The service industry trains good actors.

He came downstairs as she was clearing up the last table.

"Væna."

She spooked a little, and dropped a glass. It was heavy, and didn't break, but she felt the blood rush to her face in embarrassment. Picking it up as she whirled to face him, there on the bottom of the stairs behind the bar, Væna breathed a heavy breath. "I'm sorry, Da; you frightened me. I was -- lost in thought."

Ikran's stern face peered back at her from the dark (it appeared he had descended from their apartment without turning on the lights in the stairwell, and so the only light where he stood was the dimmest of glows from the restaurant's remaining atmosphere). She thought he might've found something wrong in the books, but in a moment he cracked a smile across his tattooed face and she breathed a bit of relief.

"Want to be careful about that," he said. And then, after a brief pause: "Open late tonight."

As she rounded the bar with dirty dishes in her telekinetic hold, Væna passed her father in the stairwell and gave him a smile. "Yeah; had some lingerers." She shrugged lightly. "Didn't bother me."

Væna adopted her father's truncated speech patterns when he was present. She was somewhat aware of this, but after more than three decades of slipping into the habit, she was also somewhat unwilling to 'correct' it. And, also --

Please go to bed, please go to bed, please go to bed!

"You're up late," she said instead. If her father was downstairs when Farsight returned, none of the three of them would have a pleasant evening (and Farsight would have an even worse one).

"Just books," he replied, and followed her to the bar sinks to help wash glasses. He looked at her sideways as they worked. "You know," he said slowly, as if he wasn't sure which words he needed to say, "it's probably past time you learned to do them yourself."

This took Væna completely by surprise, and she nearly dropped another glass (in the sink, this time). "Really?"

Her father was the on-paper owner of the property and the business, and still did the bookkeeping and the legal work (Væna'd assumed) because he'd always been strict and had a hard time fully letting go of important responsibilities. To hear that he wanted her to take over even some of that work showed a shift in his thinking she'd thought she'd never see. Væna had been under the impression that her father would die before she was allowed to look at the deed and file taxes and do the accounts.

"Yeah," he replied as they finished with the glassware. He seemed uncomfortable now, too, like being caught in the act of delegating to his daughter a task she earned years ago was somehow embarrassing. "You should know how to run it all. For when -- things happen." Because for when I die probably would have cemented her opinion of his managerial style, and he was a keen horse.

"Yeah, okay," Væna replied, hardly able to keep the gleeful joy out of her voice. "When?"

Ikran was heading back up the stairs now. (Internally, Væna breathed a sigh of relief.)

"I'm not foraging tomorrow. Make time."

"I will. Thank you!"

"Don't. It's overdue." A pause, and then: "How long you staying up?"

Væna's breath caught in her throat. Until Farsight's drowned his fucking sorrows?

"Uhm -- well -- I still have to clean the kitchen, so -- "

"Right. I won't wait up for you. 'Night, Væ."

"Night, Da! I love you!"

"Love you, too."

And he was gone, the sound of his hoofsteps disappearing up the stairs, and now she just had to pray that Farsight didn't stop by for the next few minutes while Ikran fell asleep.



words: 767
tags: FaunaFawn
notes: awww, the poor little babe! ♥ i do like the idea of skipping to later that evening, so i went with that for now. :D

editing my tag because i'm retarded

The tiniest noise by the little bar window caught Væna's attention, and on any other night she'd have figured it was those little translucent geckos chasing moths across the lighted panes -- but not this night. As if she hadn't seen him in years, Væna's breath caught in her throat and she whirled in place to see the window, her pale tawny hair spinning around her head just a moment behind the motion.

"Farsight." It was a murmur from her lips, just the tiniest noise, like a breath of calling. "Thank you, Mother." (Just a little prayer for his safe-keeping, because tonight he could use all he could get.)

She wasn't sure he could see her nod him over to the door through the glass, so she walked as quietly as she could across the dining room's wooden floor to open one of the big double-doors at the front of the Lady. It might've been closer to cross the kitchen and open the back door, but the kitchen's floor was clay tile (loud) and directly beneath her and her father's living quarters (indiscreet), so the sandy-hued mare figured it was in their best interest to go the long way.

Poking her head out the front door, she stage-whispered around the corner of the building. "Farsight! Over here!"


words: 216
tags: FaunaFawn
notes: yesssss i am all over your post! thank you so much for being patient with me through april by the way, and i'm sorry i didn't post earlier this month. i got pretty distracted by rl ponies (tizzy and i got third in our first show together this past sunday!) so my online ponies got pretty neglected. ^^; very excited to be back though! it's weird, writing this for væ really felt like i was seeing an old friend for the first time in a long time. was thinking they could go chill in like the drink cellar maybe? or one of the larders, idk. 

"If... if you've decided to stay, and try..." she began gently, hesitantly, "then I think... I think it must get better."

Naive, probably, and certainly pure optimism, but after all that's what Væna did best. Because in her mind, the effort could never go unrewarded. Just look at her father! He was never happy, and yet --

And why didn't she say this aloud?

"Just look at my da," she said quietly, pouring herself (yet another) glass of sweet white wine. "Him and mum were arranged, and he's a hard person, but they worked out okay in the end." The tawny mare shrugged sheepishly as she took a sip of her drink, and was grateful for the cold trickling down her throat. "They both had to work pretty hard at it sometimes, but they did, and it was okay. They loved each other. They were happy."

That last bit may have been more or less a lie with regards to her father; Væna had never quite been convinced that Ikran was truly happy. Oh sure, on a kind of small scale he showed signs of happiness, and she was sure he wasn't unhappy with any of his children, for example, but he was so grumpy most of the time that it was hard to think he had a free heart.

And she'd never been told anything about her parents hating the idea of marrying each other the way Farsight was talking tonight, either, but it was the only comparator she could think of, and she hoped it'd bring him some comfort.

But just in case it didn't...

She gestured over her shoulder at the dark, close stairwell leading down to the cellars. "You want something?"

Because if she couldn't comfort him with words, she'd wine him and dine him until his baser instincts were too satisfied to leave room for higher processing.


words: 311
tags: FaunaFawn
notes: awww honey! -hugs- no worries here, dude! writer's block hits all of us. i'm glad you're feeling better though!