It's nice to get away from people sometimes.

He maybe should have picked a better spot if he wanted absolute solitude.

"- And my dinner's gone cold, nevermind that happened because I was too busy berating staff to eat it while it was warm, clearly it's your responsibility, and this is not an easily solved problem by anyone with even a speck of Fire, this is clearly worth raising even more of a fuss about."

A red haired woman in a nice dress stalks down the nearby path, snarling to the air. She clearly hasn't noticed she's not alone. "Everything is, in fact, worth raising a fuss about, because I'm rich and I like hearing myself talk, blah blah blah complain complain complain. It's so fun to torment innocent waitresses by yelling at them for no reason, especially after groping them! I like to spread out how I torment people, it makes my waste of a life matter! No one is allowed to yell at me because for some reason people care about my patronage! I am going to sit here for an hour complaining to anyone that looks vaguely authority shaped about anything that resembles a problem, whee, I'm wasting everyone's time!"

A giggle emerges from a park bench in a shaded corner just off the path ahead of her.

The woman stops, mid-ramble.

"... Sorry, I can do this somewhere else if you'd rather, I was trying to avoid bothering anyone with this."

"No, go on, don't mind me."

"All right. Well. Someone might as well enjoy this."

She clears her throat a little threatrically, then continues, pacing while she rants. "My food was wrong, it's not salty enough, you don't cook like this other restaurant I've been to, they're clearly very superior. Why am I not there, you might ask? I couldn't really say, maybe they banned me for my personality, maybe I just wanted to unleash it on someone unsuspecting, maybe I don't even really like the restaurant and I yell at the people there just as much, but I yell at everyone equally so no one feels left out! Nevermind that I dress like I should be able to afford my own personal cook, I'm not putting on airs to seem more important than I am, what ever gave you that idea, I am such an important powerful person that I feel the need to grind everyone around me into the dirt just to prove it! Hey, you over there, you're not dressed like you're a waitress and you haven't moved an inch the entire hour I've been talking, but I'm shit at pattern recognition and you look vaguely like you might work here so come over here so I can yell at you, too! Everything is terrible and my food is cold and this is your problem! Whine!"

The woman huffs, clearly running out of things to ramble about. It looks sort of like she'd started a while ago. She then plops on the bench beside Solekaran to sulk. "I should set my brother on him, since he has such a problem with things being cold."

"Your brother?"

"He dedicated Fire on top of being born with some, because he's crazy sometimes. He's really good at burning things."

"Oh, don't tell me you're—I forget the guy's name, I just remember the part where the park was on fire all day and into the night—"

"That would be him. Yes, I'm related to the guy that's allergic to any colors that aren't black and decided to dedicate Death and Fire." Eyeroll. "Because that's a sensible thing to do."

"That sounds like it must make for an interesting life."

"Yeah, a bit. How many women can sincerely say their brother can kill someone with a glare?" she snorts. "I have yet to introduce him to anyone I've dated. Not that he would, just. 'This is my brother, who can kill you with a thought...'"

"I confess I might be slightly discouraged from dating you at that point! Slightly."

Snort. "What, the terrifying brother doesn't make me prime dating material? However will I cope."

"Date adventurous men," he advises. "Or adventurous women, if that's your game."

"Either. Adventurous men or women, got it. Thank you for your insight."

"Or very thoroughly immortal, I suppose, but there aren't many of those around," just one, in fact, "and then what would you do if you wanted your brother to glare them to death after all?"

She snorts, again. "I'll have you know that I have yet to want a single one of my exes dead! Losing the brother murder option is not likely to be a huge loss."

"Oh good! I am glad for both you and your exes!"

"Me too. My life does not need any murder in it. Besides, while theoretically my brother's smart enough to get away with murder, but I'd really rather not put him in that position."

"That's fair."

"I'd be such a terrible sister! Also a terrible person, but, you know. I do actually love my brother. I try not to be terrible to him."

"I don't know, I can think of some things somebody might do that would be worth murdering them over."

"Well. Okay, yes, but I also try not to date people that I might conceivably want to have murdered in the future."

"A sound policy if I've ever heard one."

"Thank you, I try."

"You are a strikingly reasonable person."

"... Because I don't ask my brother to kill people, and because I try not to date people that would persuade me to rethink this policy? That earns me 'strikingly reasonable' status? Really?"

"Mid-furious-tirade, paused to politely apologize and ask if you should take your rant elsewhere. Good sense of humour, insightful, always looking at the implications of things. I stand by my description."

"I, well, that. Um." She looks away, fidgeting with her hair in lieu of an immediate reply. "... Fair enough, thank you?"

"And now I've gone and made you uncomfortable. Well done, me. I apologize," he says wryly.

"Oh no, unexpected compliments, how dare you, your apology is not enough?" she says, looking back at him and smiling. "I wasn't uncomfortable, just a bit flustered. I do not usually get complimented on how I conduct my rambles or the content contained thereof."

"Well, all right." He smiles back.

"Now that you've heard me talk about my brother's ability to kill people and seen me angry, hi, I'm Esvetielle."

"Sekar. Pleased to meet you."

"Pleased to meet you, too."

She looks like she even means it.

Aww. He beams at her.

She smiles back.

"You know," she observes, "it's surprisingly pretty here, at this time of day. Usually I'm uh, not in parks at this hour."

"I like going to parks at odd hours. It's nice. Restful."

"Most of the time, anyway," she points out, wryly.

"Oh, don't imagine for a second that I have any complaints about the turn this evening has taken."

"Well, all right."

He grins at her.

"Do you have a lot of free time to visit parks at odd hours, then?"

"All the free time I like."

"Professional rich person?" she wonders, a little amused.

"I'm technically an architect but not because I remotely need the money, I just really like making pretty buildings. Dedicated Land after being born with it - your brother's not the only idiot around."

She stifles a giggle. "Sorry, I didn't mean it that way. I don't think you're an idiot, just - more willing to take crazy risks than I am. It clearly worked out for you. I just - when my sixteenth birthday rolled around, there was absolutely no way I was dedicating anything."

"It was absolutely a crazy risk and I wouldn't dream of denying that. I am not offended in the least."

"Zeothe - that would be the brother - was annoyed that he only went for Death and Fire, after. Seventeen hours was apparently not enough, for some reason. So uh. That's more the mindset I'm thinking of when I affectionately call him insane."

...giggle.

"'I could have had the full set!'" she says in an awkward baritone, clearly pretending to be her brother. "'If I knew what it was like I might have just dedicated everything, why is this one-shot-only, I would definitely not have accidentally blown myself up!'"

"Wow. Can't say that's a complaint I've ever heard before. 'Wish I could go another round with the agonizing death-storm'."

Giggle. "And now I am envisioning my brother challenging every agonizing death-storm he can find to a battle of fisticuffs, thank you for this gift."

Snicker. "You're entirely welcome."

She indulges in some more giggling.

"More seriously," she continues after she's recovered, "I can see the logic? Half of the reason why I didn't try for anything was that I didn't know how I'd do at it."

"Yeah. It's hard to know until you're there. I wasn't worried about mine, but that's because when I was sixteen I thought I was invincible."

Well, now she's giggling again.

"I did not have that problem! I said I wasn't going to do it before my birthday rolled around, and then it did, and I agonized over it some more the day of because I wanted more magic, and then I didn't because I was pretty sure that if I tried it I'd just die."

"Well, for whatever the opinion of a stranger you met in a park five minutes ago is worth, I'm glad you're not dead."

"Thank you! Me too! Maybe it was a horrible, horrible mistake and I would have been amazing at it and could be extra magical and trying to fight the agonizing death-storm again with my brother. We just don't know!"

Giggle.

"I didn't have any low hanging fruit, either. I was born with Life, Sea, Sky, and Shadow, and my parents dedicated me to Land, Fire, Ice, and Light. So I could have gone for Death like my brother and been there for sixteen hours, or picked something harder that would take less time. So ah. Yeah, no, I'd probably just be dead."

"Yeah, I see the logic. I applaud your sixteen-year-old self's mature and responsible decision-making."

"Thank you. My parents were pretty relieved, too, Zeothe gave them grey hair with his adventure."

Snicker. "I'll bet he did."

"... I keep talking about my brother. I can talk about other topics too, I swear, it's just - he's very relevant to the topic of magic!"

"I promise I'm not intimidated," he jokes.

Giggle.

"I'm not worried about you being intimidated, I'm worried about me being dull!"

"I'm skeptical that this is a problem you ever encounter!"

"Flatterer."

"You caught me."

"I bet you say that to all of the girls you catch angrily ranting in the park."

"I assure you, among girls I have caught angrily ranting in the park, you are uniquely worthy of flattery."

"Thank you, that's very reassuring. Meet a lot of ranting girls here, then? Did I take up someone's time slot without realizing?"

He giggles. "You're not the first, actually!"

"Really? Well now I'm tempted to gossip, I probably should resist that temptation."

"I haven't gone on to strike up conversations with any others, so I don't know their opinions on being gossiped about. Maybe better to refrain."

"I will magnanimously tolerate being gossiped about later, if you ultimately treat hearing my ranting as a positive experience that you were blessed to witness."

"It certainly was that."

"Also that I'm charming and pretty. Don't forget those."

"Of course."

"Good," she says, preening a little.

"Charming, pretty, and strikingly reasonable. And hilarious."

"You're very good at compliments. Thank you."

"I try! It's good to know I succeed!"

Smile.

"Have you had dinner yet?"

"I have not."

"I haven't either. For all the restaurant drama, I wasn't actually there to eat. Want to go have dinner?"

"I would be delighted. Anywhere in particular you recommend?"

"Not the place I just inspected. Otherwise I'm not really picky."

"Then I guess it'll be an adventure."

He stands up.

She does, too.

"I guess so!"

"Well, I did suggest you date adventurous men," he says, starting down the path at a pace she can easily keep up with. (This is something of a concern because he is very tall, and at his natural stride she might have to scamper undignifiedly in his wake.)

"You did! Look at me, following your advice near immediately and everything!"

Gosh he's tall. She's pretty tall for a woman, so maybe she could avoid undignified scampering, but - yes, she's glad he's at a slower pace.

"I'm very impressed!"

She smiles at him, then hooks her arm through his. That seems like the thing to do.

Aww. He beams delightedly.

A few turns out of the park, he pauses at a restaurant. It looks like the sort of place she probably couldn't afford to eat at. "Thoughts?"

"... Probably a bit too expensive if I'm paying for anything?" she admits. "Professional rich person or no, I wasn't going to expect you to buy me everything."

"Honestly if I felt like it I could buy you the restaurant," he says cheerfully, "but if you'd rather buy your own dinner we can go somewhere more within your budget, I don't mind."

"I - you - .... Okay, sure, buy me dinner. Not the whole restaurant, though, that. Seems excessive."

Giggle. "Sure."

They go into the restaurant. They don't appear to personally recognize him, but he's wearing the right clothes and projecting the right attitude to get them a nice little table on a balcony with a good view of the ocean.

She's dressed nicely enough to not egregiously stand out, she's so proud! There was never any way she was going to be the best dressed person in this restaurant, but she's glad she doesn't look out of place.

"Well this is way more romantic than I was envisioning. Full marks, especially on short notice," she admits, amused.

"Thank you! It's nice to be appreciated for my successes. Makes me feel all accomplished."

Giggle.

"I would have been all right with a cheap dive, but this is much nicer."

"Delighted to exceed your expectations!"

Esvetielle smiles at him, then goes to peer at the menu to figure out what she's ordering.

"Anything you'd like to recommend, or shall I let my whims lead me?"

"Oh, I haven't eaten here in a while, I wouldn't know what stands out."

"Whims it is! I'd make a joke about trying to avoid bankrupting you, but I get the impression I'd have to try really hard to manage that and probably couldn't even then."

"You are correct."

"Then I will just order whatever I want, while also reassuring you that I did not ask you out because of your money."

"Consider me reassured."

"Good. I'd be frustrated with people trying to manipulate me if I were ludicrously wealthy, I don't want to even accidentally inflict that on you. You probably get enough of it."

"I wasn't especially worried. You really don't come off as the type."

"Good. Just making sure."

She goes back to perusing the menu. She orders something that she recognizes and expects to actually like instead of something that looks new and shiny, because that seems sensible. Experimentation can come later if she decides to keep going on dates with this person.

He picks something. They successfully order their food.

Hooray!

"So, technical architect, anything you've designed that I might make complimentary awed noises at?"

"Mm... I'm trying to think of something you'd have heard of," he says.

(And that isn't known to be the Emperor's work and isn't obviously too old to have been built by someone the age he looks.)

"...oh, you know that library on the northeast edge, with the stone windows? I did that."

She considers.

"I think I've seen it," she says, after a thoughtful pause. "Interior and exterior? The exterior was pretty, but my favorite was the inside, it was very. I felt mildly intimidated by the scale, and this is speaking as a person that is not very intimidated by libraries."

"Yep, I did the whole thing."

"Oh." She smiles at her lap and squirms a little. "You're very talented, it was breathtaking."

"Aww," he says, beaming. "Thank you. I'm very proud."

"You should be. ... I said I'd make complimentary awed noises, not repetitive compliments. Hold on."

She clears her throat. "Oooooo. Aaah. So awed!" Pause. "I did not start that intending it to be sarcastic, it just sort of ended up there by accident. It's astonishingly hard to make convincing awed sounds without anything in front of me to be awed over. Um. Oops. I really am impressed, sorry?"

Cannot answer, too busy with this helpless gigglefit.

"Well," observes Esvetielle, smiling. "That's not a bad reaction to my social awkwardness."

"Your social awkwardness is immensely endearing."

"Oh good, I'm glad you find it so!"

He smiles fondly at her.

She smiles back.

"Surprisingly enough, not everyone likes having moments of sincerity frequently and egregiously subverted!"

"It was cute!"

"Cuteness is subjective! You are an integral part of the cuteness here, in that you are the one finding it cute, and also reacting in a way I find cute. We are in a cuteness feedback loop, woe is us."

"No. The thing we are is definitely not woe."

"No? But it's so fun to say woe dramatically! Can we pretend to be a little bit woe for my amusement?"

"Somehow I don't think the pretense would be very successful."

"What, no, I'm a completely convincing actress!"

She holds a hand up to her forehead, looks at the ceiling, and begins: "Woe! Woe! Woe is me, how can I possibly withstand -"

"... Ma'am?" says the waiter with their food. Esvetielle blinks, drops her hand and sits up, alarmed. "Is... Everything okay?"

"Um, yes, I'm, I'm fine, pay no attention, everything's wonderful, I'm just, um. Sorry."

Sekar flashes a reassuring smile. "We're just joking around, don't worry about it."

The waiter is appropriately reassured. He distributes dinners and then leaves.

...Sekar starts giggling again.

Esvetielle is just going to hide behind her hands now, okay? Okay.

"I am going to give him a tip," she mutters. "A nice one. ... Thank you."

"You're welcome."

"Auuugh," she says, very quietly. So as not to embarrass herself further.

"Okay, um. Yes. Let's not pretend any woe. No woe here whatsoever, especially not the imaginary kind."

He reaches across the table to pat her arm.

She smiles at him, and touches his hand with her own. "Thanks. At least I can console myself with food. And, uh, the concept if not the specific instance of fast service, because I am kind of impressed they got the food out so quickly."

"It's a nice place!"

"It is! I am delighted to be here. Money gets you nice things, who knew?"

She takes a bite of her meal and unintentionally reacts with a pleased sound. Yes, money does get you nice things.

...that was a good sound.

He smiles at her before starting in on his own dinner.

"I am," she says, after several more bites of food, "starting to see the appeal of the gold digger lifestyle. Not enough to want to indulge, but, damn."

Fond smile. "And yet, here you are, on a date with a rich man in a restaurant you can't afford."

"A single dinner at a really expensive place is not going to break my budget, if you for some reason ditched and left me with the bill," she sniffs. "I'd just have to eat cheaply for a while after. And I am here for you, not your money, there is a distinct difference."

"Well, fair enough."

"I would have accepted a cheap dive! Where I buy for myself! You volunteered to spoil me, I heard you, you said you could buy the restaurant."

"It's true, I did. And I don't regret it in the slightest. You are a delight to spoil."

Happy squirm. "I, well. Good, I'm glad this is a mutually positive experience."

"It very much is!"

Well now she is going to smile at him between bites of delicious expensive food. So there.

He smiles right back at her.

"You have a nice smile," she sighs, without really meaning to.

"Thank you!"

"... Oh, wow, I actually said that out loud, didn't I, um. I mean, I meant it, just. It's a bit more corny than I try to be?"

"I assure you I don't mind."

"I think this is another situation where I might mind a little! I don't want to be - I don't know, straight out of a cheesy discount romance novel."

"But then, where would we be if no one ever complimented each other for fear of sounding trite?"

"Probably in a very sad, lonely world," she admits. "Everyone afraid to give compliments and upset that they'd received none, without ever knowing why."

"What a terrible world. I won't stand for it. You have a lovely smile," he says, gazing fondly across the table at her.

"Yeah, well, so do you. Ha. Take that, I have defeated you."

Giggle. "Oh, but I haven't given up yet! Let's see... you have a lovely smile, you're strikingly reasonable, charming, pretty, hilarious... I'm sure I can come up with a new one, let's see... oh, I know - and you're thoughtful and conscious of your effect on the world. There. I think I'm winning this battle," he says, smugly.

... This seems to have made her briefly speechless. That probably means he's winning this battle.

"You're - that's - you're," is all she manages. Is that a blush? That looks like a blush.

He beams.

"Shush you haven't won, I just need some time to recover," she sniffs, trying not to laugh. She only mostly succeeds.

"Take all the time you like. I can wait."

"Good, thank you." She sits up, takes a deep breath, and gets to the business of winning.

Esvetielle fixes him with a look that is only softened a little by the hint of a smile at her lips. "You," she says, with utmost gravity, "are ludicrously talented, wonderfully handsome, smart, confident without straying into being actively obnoxious. You're well spoken in a, a more concise way than I'm used to, when you want to make a point you make it, instead of fluttering about trying to find the right thing to say. Like a, swordsman running around in a conversation, occasionally listening politely, and occasionally stabbing people. You're up front in a way a lot of people aren't, and I really appreciate it, I don't feel like I have to navigate complicated social etiquette or worry if I'm being lied to, you're just." She waves a hand at him, as if this expresses her point. "And also, you're very sweet and you light up every time I smile, and it's really great."

"Well," he says. "I admit defeat. Delightedly."

"Pleasure sparring with you, I'll try not to gloat." She winks, her smile irrepressible.

"By the way," he says, grinning, "you are exquisitely cute when you blush."

"Thank you," she says primly, pretending that this has not caused her to blush more.

He smiles fondly across the table at her.

She smiles fondly back, trying to keep a damper on her smugness. This works about as well as it did for the smile and the blush, but he's spared from gloating. Instead she focuses on finishing her delicious meal before she has any sort of chance to complain about coldness.

The food is delicious. And yet, unaccountably, Sekar seems to be paying more attention to the company.

But he does finish eventually, and pays for their meal and stands up and offers her his arm.

After leaving the promised tip, she stands and takes it, smiling.

Out of the restaurant they go.

"And now what shall we do?"

She - looks at him with a consideration that implies she is very tempted to suggest something presumptuous...

... Then shakes her head ruefully and admits, "I should actually probably head home and get some sleep, I've got work in the morning."

"How reasonable of you," he says. "Shall we meet in the park another evening, then?"

After a moment of consideration, she nods. "Yes, all right. Next week I'm going to be a bit busy, though, I'd probably be too exhausted to be any fun. Sometime the week after?"

"Sure. Landsday?"

"Sounds good. Same place, around the same time? Or... Actually, I suppose it might be more efficient if I invited you to walk me home, and you came by there."

"I suppose it might," he agrees. "If you didn't mind being walked home by someone you met in a park two hours ago."

"As I recall, we started with 'my brother can kill you with a thought.' So watch out, sir," she teases, smiling. "No, I don't mind. Besides," she lowers her voice, "I would kind of like to kiss you and would rather not in the middle of the street."

"Well then I would be delighted to walk you home."

"Excellent!"

Her home isn't too far away, but the walk is nice enough. She keeps hold of his arm and smiles at him on the way there.

"This was really nice, I had a lot of fun."

"I agree completely."

"I'm glad I wandered into a park to vent my frustration!"

"And I'm glad I was there to overhear you!"

Giggle.

Soon enough, she stops in front of a modest but nice looking house with a thriving garden.

"This would be the aforementioned home," she says, smiling up at him.

"It's nearly as adorable as you are."

He leans down to kiss her.

"Flatterer," she breathes affectionately, and then she leans up and kisses him.

She'd meant it to be a quick good night kiss, but she went and stood on her toes to reach him. Which of course means that to keep her balance while kissing she needs to stabilize herself on something, and since the only thing remotely available is Sekar, well. Now she's using him for support. This makes it very easy to tangle her hands in his hair and whoops now this is a bit more than a quick good night kiss.

It goes on rather longer than he meant to let it.

(If her brother sees them, it's going to get... awkward. A seventeen-hour self-dedication is the sort of thing the Emperor shows up to; he remembers Zeothe very clearly, and he expects that Zeothe remembers him just as well, though their conversation was brief.)

Eventually he has the presence of mind to break away.

"Well," he says, a little breathless, touching his fingertips to her cheek. "I've had a lovely evening." He makes himself take a small step back, though he can't resist picking up her hand and kissing it. "I look forward to seeing you next Landsday."

"Yeah. All of those things," she sighs, a little dreamily. She recovers herself quickly enough for a rueful smile. "Good night, Sekar."

"Good night, Esvetielle."

And he turns and walks away.

This is an absolutely doomed relationship, even more doomed than the usual. What the fuck does he think he's doing? Her brother knows his face. But - she's so lovely and charming and witty and thoughtful. She sparkles. He wants to make her blush again.

She lingers outside her door for a few seconds, smiling faintly, then turns and heads inside.

"Sibling or burglar?" calls a voice from upstairs, once she's inside.

... Esvetielle cracks up.

"Yes!"

"Oh good, now I can take your place as the good one in the family."

And she can get a hug, because he is a kind brother who wasn't in the middle of anything important anyway.

Hug! "Ha. Hi. You're up late."

"Yeah, Nito's being weird and nervous and I don't know why. I know it's important, but knowing that and nothing else makes it hard to sleep, and - uh, I've been playing the excuse game to see if I eventually exhaust myself."

"I see that's been working out for you."

"Yep. It's been great."

... Esvetielle's worried about her brother, but also, separately, has an expression.

"... What's with the face."

"What, me, what face, I have no face, I am a faceless horror, what are you talking about?"

"Uh huh. Right. My sister. Faceless horror, yep."

Eyeroll. "I um. Tripped over a date and then had a lot of fun."

"Was the date just lying in the street for anyone to trip over and take pity on?"

"No, he was - ... Do you want me to let you attempt to get some sleep or drag you off to gleefully gush."

"Eh, sleep's not happening for another hour at least, I'll take the latter."

"Okay!"

This is obviously a hot chocolate situation, so she acquires hot chocolate for them both to sip while she gushes profusely.

"So. Did not literally trip over this person, a good start to any romantic evening."

Snicker.

"No, instead I, uh. First had to suffer a stupid person while I was at work, who was personally responsible for keeping me there an hour longer than was necessary, and was terrible besides. So naturally, I did the only responsible thing to do, and I stalked into a park alone at, uh. Almost night. Mostly night. To say my expletives where no one would hear them."

"Yes, nothing that would potentially make mom make a face at you there, nope. Alone in a park at night, good call."

"Do you want me to stop story time or do you want to shush."

"I'm going to go with the latter."

"Ah huh. So! I was not alone in the park, turns out I was interrupting someone. He found my entire, uh, rambling angry speech hilarious and charming."

"You are temporarily unshushed for adorable sibling affection, do not abuse these privileges."

"Awwwwww."

"So he invited me to continue my tirade, which of course I did, he continued to be delighted, and it turned into flirting and then I asked him out."

Snort. Suppression of an expression that translates to 'And if this sketchy person you met in a park hurt you I will set him on fire,' because he trusts his sister's judgement a bit too much to just skip to that.

"Sorry. I swear it's... slightly... more responsible than it sounds."

Shrug. "I have done more dangerous things than walk into a park and ask someone out."

"... This is true."

"I just have these big brother instincts, you know. Grrr, burn kill maim, my sister, grr. Anyway, go on?"

"So, um. I didn't mean to ask out a guy that turned out to be rich and then be taken to a ludicrously expensive restaurant that he paid for, buuuuut..."

"I had fun! It was fun, he was sweet. Very... he very obviously enjoyed making me smile. Lit up every time I smiled at him, it was adorable. Then, the conversational chemistry was kind of insane, it was so easy to talk to him. I - still don't know him very well, but I definitely like him."

"Aw."

"Yeah. So we're having another date next Landsday, and I will be suppressing the urge to lovingly doodle his name on perfectly innocent stationery."

"Should we find you guilty stationery that knows what it did?"

.... She cracks up.

"Being literal is my job, stop it."

"I decided that I wasn't going to be outdone, and was therefore going to outdo you in burglary. By stealing your thing."

"Uh huh."

"Mhmm," he says, cut off from anything more eloquent by a yawn.

"Okay to go to bed now?" she asks, softly.

"Yeah, probably. I will reassure myself with the fact that someone is telling me something going on in their lives, instead of getting into a mess, not talking about it, and then dumping it when the someone realizes it's too big for them."

"... Hate to be blunt, except not really, but are you sure you should be this guy's friend?"

Sigh. "No. I will probably punch him and tell him to fuck off this time."

"Before or after you solve his problem?"

... Rueful smile.

"Haven't decided. G'night."

"Night. Love you."

"Love you too," he yawns, and then shambles off to bed.

She stays to finish off her hot chocolate and clean the mugs so they won't be waiting for them in the morning, then also heads off to sleep.

One week later, at a rather boring social event, someone offhandedly mentions someone near their home that was executed for murder. This isn't in itself particularly noteworthy, people just get executed sometimes, except someone might perhaps notice the name.

Zeothe.

—there are multiple people by that name in the city, but—

He leaves. He checks the records. Yeah, it's him.

He checks for any mention of what happened to the sister.

Outstanding debts from her brother passed on to her. Looks like several different slimy people that probably had at least one grudge between them noticed, and figured this would be a good time to capitalize on it. They've tacked on extra fees and debts that are, frankly, bullshit, but would only really be cleared with any alacrity if someone had a proper lawyer -

- which she cannot, of course, afford.

She got pinned with one of the more reputable debts while the disreputable debts tied up her money. With nothing to pay with, the debt collector moved to have her sold to pay it off.

And how far along is this process -

He digs up the location of the auction house, spies on it from across the city. They're just starting to set up for the next batch; it'll be a few minutes yet, and she'd have to be awfully unlucky to be first in line.

There's a part of him that wants to just walk in there and take her, but people do rely on him not doing that sort of thing too often. It's better for the stability of the empire if he buys her legally rather than confiscating her on a whim. And—at least until they put the slave-marks on her, there's a chance she might not realize who he is—he might get to see her smile one more time before it's all over—

He makes a portal to an alley near the auction house, takes a deep breath in an effort to regain some semblance of calm, and steps through. They're just about to start when he walks in; he takes a seat near the back of the room.

She's last in line. 'Pretty,' 'red haired,' and 'former-nobility' combine to make her something of an expensive novelty, which is perhaps part of the reason why she was buried under bullshit debts in the first place. A great deal of money could be made from her being sold. Not just from being sold, though that'll be plenty lucrative, but from being a prize that draws people to the auction house to look. Being last is very calculated. The riff raff that have no hope in hell of affording her either clear out or linger at the edges to see what she looks like, and the main seating area is left with some very rich customers.

Her expression, when they bring her out in manacles, is one of despairing and impotent fury. She does not actually need to be dragged to the stage, but when she gets there she venomously spits in the crowd's direction. This earns her a backhand from one of the guards, which invokes one hell of a glare, but not even a whimper of pain.

(Oh, her pride is going to be her undoing. Possibly it would be smarter to pretend meekness so she doesn't draw someone interested in breaking her, but she does not have the composure for it. She is livid, and shaking with anger, not fear.)

The guard in question experiences a moment of unexplained dizziness before Solekaran gets hold of his temper. It's been centuries since the last time he made someone drop dead on the spot just because they pissed him off, but apparently today is really bringing it out in him.

The guard stumbles, but not in a particularly overt fashion, and the moment of dizziness ends without incident.

A young, handsome looking man with a distasteful smirk is the opening bidder. He opens high, and looks at her with a predatory hunger, like he is finally about to get what he wants.

Esvetielle's eyes narrow at him, and she has just enough composure to bite back her snarl. But not the glare. That looks like recognition, not just general anger and disgust at her situation.

He manages not to call on Death even a little bit this time, but in the time he takes to remind himself not to do that, a voice he recognizes pipes up with a higher bid. It's that fellow who collects pretty redheads.

He really does not want Esvetielle going to a collection of pretty redheads.

He doubles the collector's bid. Heads turn in his direction all over the room. Some of them will certainly recognize him, but not all; he does a pretty good job of keeping his face less well-known than it could be.

One person who hasn't yet bidded recognizes him, laughs a quiet little laugh, and sits back in his chair, satisfied. Another recognizes him, staring at him with widened eyes, then quietly leaves her seat to slip out of the room.

Esvetielle straightens, blinking. Her eyes search the room, and fall upon Sekar. Her expression changes from fury to something resembling shame, or perhaps dismay - she would really rather he not see her like this.

The opening bidder is not one of the people that recognized their Emperor, and he raises Sekar's bid by a large sum. He even has the audacity to glare at him.

He doesn't look at anyone but Esvetielle.

He doubles that one too. (Out of the corner of his eye, he sees the collector slump in defeat.)

This is not actually enough to make the handsome man back off. He raises the sum again.

Esvetielle is looking at him with - something resembling hope, mixed with a healthy dose of 'why are you doing this you crazy person.'

He gives her a slight, wry headtilt, as though to say 'didn't I tell you I could buy you a restaurant?', and doubles the handsome man's bid again. They are definitely in restaurant territory now.

I didn't think you'd actually do it! she mouths, appalled. And - distinctly not appalled, she sort of wants to fling herself at him in order to cry. This does not earn her another backhand, perhaps fortunately for the guard.

There's a pause, and for a second it seems like Solekaran has won with his absurd, restaurant territory sum -

- then another bidder that has yet to make a single bid leans over and murmurs something to the handsome man. He considers, then nods, grimly. And raises again, by a significant sum.

He sighs slightly.

He doubles on them again, in an I-can-do-this-all-day tone of voice.

No one raises that. Maybe someone somewhere could, conceivably, but clearly none of them are in this room and willing to fork it over for a single slave. The handsome man claws at his hair, like he could somehow mythically come up with the money necessary if he thought hard enough. This does not, actually, turn up any money.

Esvetielle is looking at him with something almost resembling relief, except -

- that is a truly outrageous sum that no one could sensibly afford. How the fuck-?

Then realization dawns, and she just - stares. One person could afford that. One.

...yeah, she's caught him. Well. It was nice while it lasted.

The auctioneer waits for further bids, and when, predictably, none are forthcoming, declares in his favour. He stands up and comes to the front of the room where the scribe waits with the enchanted brush to mark her as his property.

"Ah - pardon me, sir, but whose mark do I draw—?"

"Imperial," he says, not particularly caring who overhears.

"Wait, what -" hisses the handsome man. "- Her? She'll be dead in a week you're wasting -"

Someone smarter clamps a hand over the idiot's mouth and begins attempting to drag him away before the Emperor kills him.

Esvetielle doesn't even flinch, at either the confirmation or the yelling. Instead she continues to give Solekaran an almost shell-shocked stare. She limply allows herself to be led and for her arms to be arranged for the scribe, not paying any attention to much of anything else.

The scribe paints the Imperial sun on the inside of each wrist. The Emperor... has a hard time looking at his new purchase.

He at least manages not to do anything petty to the handsome idiot.

When the ink has settled under her skin, he makes an idle gesture and all her chains open up and fall away. Then - he moves like he's going to reach for her hand, hesitates, and just beckons instead.

She doesn't actually register this motion, or if she does, she does not translate it to an order.

"Esvetielle," he says softly.

That does it. She blinks, looks away, and quietly trails after him.

He leads her out of the room, and as soon as they're in a hallway with no one else present he opens a portal to his sitting room.

It's - just about as decadent as you'd expect from the Emperor, although considerably less blatantly evil. Optimized for beauty and comfort, without so much as a single instrument of torture in sight. Walls and floor and ceiling all of a piece, because the Emperor built this place himself by magic. An architect indeed.

She doesn't look around, because she's staring at him again. But she does actually go through the portal, so that's... an improvement?

He sits down heavily on a big comfortable couch and puts his face in his hands. (The portal fades away behind her.)

"I don't understand."

—he glances up at her.

"I- wh-" Nope, words are not coming, start over and try again. Standing is slightly more difficult than sitting, so she does that second thing in - a chair. Any chair. Closest one, that seems easiest.

"I don't understand," she repeats, a little plaintively, because that seems to be the only thought that is forming itself into a coherent concept.

"Sometimes I like to go out and - not be the Emperor, for a little while. It's nice to talk to people who aren't terrified of me."

She considers this, then nods, only a little mechanically.

"So it wasn't - none of that was, was - it was all real?"

"Yeah. I hate lying and try to do as little of it as possible. I just - left some things out. Like the rest of the elements of my self-dedication, and the fact that I built a lot more than just that one library."

"And you had - nothing to do with the, the." She fails to form sentences again. Okay, that's fine. Stop, start over. Form coherent concepts. "And you didn't have anything to do with the clusterfuck that was." Her voice catches a little, but she presses on. "My week?"

"Heard about your brother a couple of hours ago, somebody just happened to be discussing recent executions. Looked you up to see if whatever trouble he got into had gotten to you too."

She swallows, and nods.

"You could say that," she murmurs, a hint of rueful.

"I'd ask what the fuck happened but I get the sense you don't really want to talk about it."

"I don't - you know I'm not actually sure? I - Zeothe was framed, if he actually killed anyone and then got caught he would have looked at me apologetically and asked me t-to." She swallows. "To apologize to our parents for him and hand me a, a, contingency plan that would keep. Something this shaped. From occurring."

"Yeah. I - I met him, when he came out of his dedication. He was... memorable. If you'd been any less charming I would've refused to walk you home, wouldn't have wanted to take the chance he'd recognize me."

That startles a laugh out of her.

"What," she says, sounding almost like herself again, except for that hint of a sob in her throat, "you liked me that much, having met my brother and wanting to -" She cannot finish the sentence, in favor of trying not to cry.

"...do you want a hug."

Aborted-sob.

"Yes please."

He looks up at her and opens his arms.

And now he has an Esvetielle in his arms, clinging to him and violently sobbing like everything in the world is terrible, none of it will ever be okay again, and like he's the only person in any of it that's anything resembling adequate.

Well.

Yeah he's going to fix this. But - she can finish crying on him first.

She's going to be a while.

He doesn't have anywhere to be.

"Some purchase I am," she sniffles with a complex hybrid of misery and humor. "Outrageous sum of money in order t-to be cried on, I am the opposite of a sound investment."

"You're very attractive when you cry," he says, hugging her.

"Oh, good, because that was my priority here," she snorts, laughing a little, and - then the laughs are back to being sobs, yep. That was predictable.

Snuggle.

After she has had a bit of time to sob:

"Though, there is a logic to b-being a really unsound investment, in like. Most of the potential outcomes for cases like these. I was vaguely hoping w-whoever got me would end up desperately unhappy with their purchase."

"Oh, they would've been," he says. "Especially whoever that one idiot was, I think he'd have been stubborn enough that when I came to get you I'd have killed him rather than deal with his nonsense."

She lets out a watery giggle.

"That's kind of gratifying. Can you kill him anyway, he's a prick. - No, I should not make murder decisions while I'm miserable, ignore that."

"I will wait until you're not miserable before I kill anyone for you," he promises.

And more giggling. Giggle sobbing. Very talented, this woman.

"Thank you. Why do I keep having this kind of power. Was I secretly dedicated to a, a higher, tenth power? The power of murder delegation?"

He pets her hair and smiles slightly.

She sniffles again, and then - yyyyyep, back to the really violent sobbing. No more snarky comments for a while.

More cuddles.

More sobs! So many sobs.

Eventually, she does exhaust herself to smaller sobs that resemble hiccups more than the awful bawling she'd been doing earlier.

"Why is everything so terrible," she mumbles into his very damp shoulder, without heat.

"The world is kind of a fucked-up place," he says, hugging her some more. "Want to hear some good news for a change?"

"Sure, I could use some variety. Abject misery just gets so dull after a while."

"I can resurrect the dead."

She pulls back to stare at him, again. This is a different kind of look.

"You. You can?" This seems to be rhetorical, because she doesn't wait for a reply. "Will you?" she whimpers, looking pleadingly at him with red rimmed, puffy eyes. "Please," she adds, as an afterthought.

"Yes, of course. I wouldn't have mentioned it if I wasn't already planning to. It's not trivial and I don't want to make a habit of it but I can bring back one brother."

Nod. ... Sniffle.

"Thank you," she murmurs, snuggling him. Some of the tension leaves her. Not all, but some.

He cuddles her and pets her hair.

She hums appreciatively and relaxes a little more.

"I think I'm allowed to make the executive decision to, to - to hold off on resurrecting my brother until I'm less of a mess. Unless being dead is unpleasant in some way?"

"No, being dead is pretty much... not being."

"Okay. So the last thing he will remember is being executed for a thing he didn't do. That means he should come back to a sister that is not a mess so he doesn't have to - he was already handling a complicated problem with little information and it was really unpleasant. I don't want to do that to him a second time."

"You're being strikingly reasonable again," he says, cuddling her.

"I am too damn tired to waste any energy on being unreasonable," she says, wryly.

Hug. Deeply affectionate smile.

Hug. Little smile. She stills and snuggles him. For a little while it seems like she might fall asleep on him, but then she stirs.

"... Mm. I should be responsible. Do you think the talk about, uh - " She holds up a forearm to display his mark, in lieu of words. "- the this related stuff should come sooner or later? Benefits of sooner being that there won't be any unpleasant surprises later and you'll get an emotionally exhausted buffer zone of me having about three fucks left to give, benefits of later being that I will have had at least one nap first and would be more reasonable and less cranky. Either way, I should get food and water and then like. A place to sleep. At some point that resembles soon."

He gestures vaguely at the floor, and a small tree grows from the bare stone, swirling up into the shape of a round wooden table before going still. Tiny buds form on its surface and open up into lovely flowers which bloom to reveal plates of delicious food. A particularly enormous blossom yields a pitcher of water with fruit slices floating in it.

She considers the table of food and drink, then leans up to peck Sekar on the cheek.

"Thank you," she says, then she disentangles herself in order to raid the table. Water first.

"Was that a no to the conversation happening now, then?" she clarifies, after she's downed a full glass of water.

"It... seemed like a problem I could solve, so I solved it. I - have no idea where to even start talking about - things."

"Well, is the plan to free me and send me on my way when you're sure I won't just get dragged to another auction house? Keep me but let me do whatever I feel like? Keep me but... do something in particular?" She says that last one like she's confused about what he'd even be doing with her.

"...You say that like you have no idea what 'something in particular' would be..."

"To be honest, I don't. I mean, I've heard the everything and don't think that's false, but." She indulges in more water. "If you want to torture me you're really not acting like it? And while I'm not going to claim a full understanding of who you are as a person, I am reasonably confident that you are up front about things that you want and not going to play mindfucky games with me. As far as I can tell, you either want me to be okay, or you find my distress upsetting enough to want to make it stop. So. No, really, what would you even want to do with me."

"I did mention you're very attractive when you cry."

"Yeah. So why are you resurrecting my brother, are you planning to bring him back and kill him again in front of me? That'd make me cry. Are you feeding me delicious things so you can watch me cry when later you're forcing me to eat bugs and rats? You didn't try to lengthen my crying session in any way, were you observing how long it takes me to come down from it so you can see how you can outdo it when you're trying?"

These are not serious accusations.

"Because from where I'm sitting, those are all kind of absurd. I'm not scared of you because you haven't done anything that implies you'd want to hurt me. Maybe at some point you'll be too tempted and not be able to resist, but you seem more enraptured by my smile than my tears."

"I like your smile," he says softly.

Well, here it is for him to see. She still looks like a bit of a mess, what with all of the crying, but that is a genuine smile that is pointed right at him.

"I did get that impression. I did not actually sleep through our date, you're shocked, I know."

He hugs her.

She is happy to cooperate with this! She even pets his hair and snuggles him.

...he seems kind of - withdrawn and upset. Hairpets and snuggles do not immediately resolve this.

Pet pet, snuggle snuggle.

"I'm sorry, did I... make something worse, say something wrong...?"

...he sighs. He curls up next to her on the couch and rests his head in her lap.

"You - I don't - I'm not a safe person, Esvetielle. I'm not... you're right that I don't want to hurt you, but... it's something I'm kind of in the habit of, you know. Hurting people. I - when I said I mentioned how attractive you are when you cry - I didn't mean any of the silly things you said. But I did mean that the whole time I was holding you while you cried on me, cuddling you and comforting you, not a minute went by when I didn't also think about raping you. I... I want to be someone you can trust. I'm trying to be someone you can trust. But I don't think it's a joke that I might fail."

She shivers a little, but doesn't pull away from him. He can get hairpets. Pensive ones.

"I'm sorry for making a joke of it. I didn't mean it was a joke, I just. I didn't know how else to say the thing I meant." Pet, pet. "It's a coping mechanism. The snarky comments."

He pats her knee. "The snarky comments are cute. Just - didn't quite land right that time."

"Yeah, that happens sometimes. Sorry." Pet pet.

Snuggle.

"I want to keep you," he murmurs. "Not - to do anything to. Just because I like having you."

"Okay," she says, after a thoughtful pause.

"...what, really?"

"I mean, I'm. Definitely having some complicated feelings on that point. I'm vaguely worried that this might make me more - tempting. To you. I'm less vaguely worried about how other people will treat me, with. These marks on my arms. I don't have any idea how to explain it to anyone that cares about me in a way that won't make them very, very worried." She swallows, and shifts a hand away from petting to look at the imperial mark on her wrist.

"But a week ago I thought there was no possible way I could ever -" Her voice breaks a little, and she sucks in a breath and tries again. "Ever go to an auction house. It was absurd? I wasn't an idiot, I didn't play fast and loose with any debts, I had a sensible emergency fund, I had my brother and more distantly my parents, and. Then none of that mattered and suddenly I'm. Up on the block and wondering who would fucking buy me and what my life would be like and how bad the inevitable rape would be and. The uncertainty was the worst part, at least if I knew who I was going to I could have some kind of basis to plan from, could expect something, could figure out coping mechanisms. But I didn't." She makes a sound in her throat, and shakes her head. "And I don't want to feel that way again. Ever. I - I can't. And I'd be - afraid, of it ever happening again. Because I didn't even do anything wrong?"

Esvetielle takes a shuddering breath. "And at least if I'm yours I won't ever have to go back. You're the fucking Emperor. You won't die and leave me to someone else, no one could possibly take me from you. That'll just be it."

He sits up so he can gather her into his arms and hug her.

"I won't let anyone else have you," he says. "I - might have it in me to free you, if that was what you wanted. I don't have it in me to free you and then let - let you be stolen from yourself. I want you mine, and if not mine then no one's."

She snuggles him and lets out a watery giggle.

"Jealous type, huh?" she mumbles into his chest. "Thanks."

He laughs softly and hugs her some more.

Snuggle.

"I think it seems kind of silly to get in a fight over it, anyway. You're. You're the fucking Emperor? Marks on my wrists or not I'm kind of screwed either way if you decide to do something, who even cares. I'm just - tired. I just want to be safe."

Hug. "I want you to be safe too."

"I'm glad."

She relaxes in his arms. Oh no, she might fall asleep.

He holds her.

... And she's out. It was a long day with a lot of emotions. A lot of crying. Not a lot of sleep the night before, or the nights before that.

Yeah.

He gently scoops her up and carries her to his enormous comfy bed and nestles with her amid his soft cozy blankets.

She peacefully sleeps through her relocation.

Much later, she makes a tired sound and stirs, blinking at the room in sleepy confusion.

She is being snuggled by a dozy cozy Emperor.

Well that's surprisingly adorable. She considers possible actions, then nestles slightly closer. Cuddles are so nice right now.

He smiles and sighs happily and nuzzles her shoulder.

"Hi," she mumbles.

"Hi."

"Is this your bed?" she wonders, sleepily. "It's so. Big. Why is it so big."

"Why not?"

"Changing the sheets must be a pain. ... Oh. Right. Emperor. Never mind. Hard to get out of?"

"That just means I get to be cozy for longer." Snuggle.

Snort. "Some of us have appointments, you know."

"I will build you a smaller bed." He kisses her forehead.

Giggle. "Thank you."

Snuggle.

"Anything in particular you want to do today?"

"Mm." She gently pulls away to sit up. "... I'd like my brother back, but I need to have everything me related wrapped up and tied with a bow and not requiring any input from him."

"Okay. So what's that add up to?"

"I, um." She rubs her face, then is briefly distracted by the still alien imperial mark on her wrist. She drops the hand. "Need to figure that out, really."

"Is that something I can help with or is it more of a 'build you a bedroom and leave you alone for the rest of the day' sort of thing?"

"I think you can help with that. Um. So what do you do all day, and where would I fit into that? Since I assume you're, er. Keeping. Me."

"I do... whatever I feel like. You can pretty much also do whatever you feel like. Well, within practical limitations - you'd have some trouble doing architecture the way I do architecture, you can't fly - although if you wanted wings I could give you some..."

"... Well that's a thing I never considered possible. I will probably want to do that eventually, actually, that sounds like fun."

He grins at her.

She smiles back.

"I think I'd get bored with just hobbies, though. I like - having goals and accomplishing things. I didn't exactly like my job, but I liked having it."

"Huh. I'm not sure I get the difference. If having goals and accomplishing things is what you want to do with your life, then that still comes in under 'whatever you feel like', doesn't it?"