Isidor Briar Durant (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
heirtothedragonsfire) wrote2017-06-17 02:02 pm
heirtothedragonsfire) wrote2017-06-17 02:02 pm
Entry tags:
A rocky path - with westfallcorndog
Despite the Archon's reputation for being fierce and unyielding, he and his wife had always taught Isidor that a person should always listen, that they should always know when to act and when to be still. More importantly, he spoke of how humility was a better guide than pride. Although not many would have heard him say it, or guessed he ever would, Isidor had and she remembered it vividly as she walked to Naugus' tower. It was not an easy walk. She was going to the Weatherhills to do something she had little experience with and took no joy in: She was here to admit she was wrong.
As per usual, she is dressed immaculately in a business dress and heels, a choice that ensures she won't have to glare up at Lawrence if he appears, but also means she has to stick to the path. Her reluctance isn't easy to spot with the way she strides into the area the Weatherhills have so expertly transformed. Once she arrives, she scans the area for a familiar face. "Hello?"
As per usual, she is dressed immaculately in a business dress and heels, a choice that ensures she won't have to glare up at Lawrence if he appears, but also means she has to stick to the path. Her reluctance isn't easy to spot with the way she strides into the area the Weatherhills have so expertly transformed. Once she arrives, she scans the area for a familiar face. "Hello?"
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When it's through examining her it twists around with an excited hop and peels off, grunting, squealing, and between breaths making a shrill little cry to catch someone's attention. The human it runs directly to is Mrs. Weatherhill, who had been tending to tall tomato plants growing in rows in one of the garden. It points toward Isidor with its nose and Mrs. Weatherhill pays it for its trouble with a small tomato, which it gulps down greedily.
She removes her gloves and tucks them into her apron as she hurries to greet their guest, all cheer and smiles. "Isidor!" she says happily. "Oh, sweetie, you're looking lovely today. I'd hug you, but I'm all covered in dirt. Is there something I can do for you?"
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She smiles brightly at Mrs. Weatherhill. "Odilia. Thank you. Your garden looks beautiful today." Her smile turns hopeful and she lowers her voice ever so slightly. "I was wondering if Harrowheart was around."
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"W-well," she starts, uncertain and uncomfortable. "Everybody's here today. I think Peter's still in the back helping remove an old tree. I'll go tell him you're here. He wouldn't want you to see him looking like he is."
She uncertainly pats Isidor's wrist to assure her that she'll do as she said, then hurries off to the other side of the castle. In the absence of anyone to keep her company the little piglet, having finished his tomato, scurries back to Isidor's side. He grunts comfortingly and looks up to her now and then while they're alone.
As soon as he sees Harrowheart rounding the castle he gives Isidor a final sing-song trill goodbye and bounds off elsewhere to 'help' the humans working on the property. For his part Harrowheart, dressed in dirty clothes in the rural style of his family, looks tired and disheartened by something... At least until he's close enough to Isidor to smile faintly for her.
"Didn't expect to see you here today," he says, a hint of hopefulness in his voice. "I see Lil' Buddy was lookin' after you. He's sweet, ain't he? Just don't pet him, under all that fur I swear he's made outta dirt."
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As soon as Harrowheart appears, she turns her attention to him and makes sure to smile. She doesn't comment on his clothes, though she does spare him a glance up and down. The mention of the 'Lil' Buddy' being made of dirt gets a light laugh. "He's fine." She hesitates and then folds her hands behind her back. "I was actually wondering if I could talk to you. I wasn't sure you'd be here what with your duties in your world... If it's busy, I could get some gardeners in to help to make up for the lost time."
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He takes a second then to size her up, to consider what she looks like and how she's acting. She seems... Stiff. Is that normal? Bad? It can't be too bad. She smiled when she saw him and she laughed about dirty pigs. That's about as normal a reaction as he could have hoped for.
He's hesitant to continue smiling, but he does. "We can talk, sure. I don't think anyone's inside?"
He leads her inside through the magical door that opens to his presence and heads for the cluttered drawing room where he and his family spend their nights on couches, small mattresses, and cots packed close together. Unfortunately, Harrowheart wasn't totally right; not everyone is outside. The demon calling himself Lawrence is sitting peacefully on one of the couches reading a book.
He looks up when he hears them approach and closes his book the second he sees Isidor. He opens his mouth, then closes it, then opens it again... And finally shakes his head. He rises from his seat and goes to leave without confrontation. As he passes his brother he puts a hand on his shoulder and thins his lips in an expression that can only be described as 'good luck, but I have zero faith in you.'
When Isidor and Harrowheart are properly alone he takes Lawrence's seat on the couch and pats the next cushion to encourage Isidor to sit too. "He knew I'd carry him out if he said anything," he explains.
A few seconds pass before he asks, "So what is it you came here to say? Everything's all right, right?"
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She does her best not to, but she straightens and bristles at the sight of him anyway, watching him down the length of her nose. When he opens his mouth she is entirely certain she's about to have to parry a smart remark, and the silence is more surprising than anything he could have said. She relaxes, marginally, when he leaves.
Not enough to sit, however. Nothing about this is easy for her. She wants to move, despite the lack of room. Sitting won't help her at all. She would probably end up fidgeting like Viatorus and then Harrowheart would know she's not in control. Instead she stands, hands folded neatly in front of her, doing her best not to appear confrontational.
"I don't want you to fight with your brother because of me," she says first. Not least because it delays her actual reason for coming here. "He doesn't like me, and I'm used to that. I can handle that. You shouldn't strain your relationship with him over me. Not ever, not even a little bit. Family is too important."
And delaying over.
She twists her lips and looks around before her gaze settles on Harrowheart again. "He talked to you, about the dinner with your family," she states. "That's what I'm here to talk about."
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Except... That's not it. What's she talking about? Family, strained relationships?... He knits his brow and focuses on what she has to say as his palms press tightly together. Only when she's through speaking does he begin to shake his head in almost imperceptibly small motions.
"Lawrence talked with me, but we didn't fight? Our relationship ain't strained? Isidor... Lawrence don't really like you, I ain't gonna say he does, but... Wh..." He stops himself before he says too much and raises his eyebrows curiously. "What do you think Lawrence told me after the dinner?"
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Folding her hands again, she breathes deeply and purses her lips before speaking slowly and calmly. "I think he told you what happened. I think he told you about a matter that was raised in conversation and became a point of contention between us. I think he told you how I acted in relation to this matter, and that it was not... appropriately respectful to you."
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Until.
He covers his mouth to keep serious, but his efforts are in vain. When his hand drops from his face in place of his tensely-drawn lips is a smile, and it lights up his eyes. "Is that... Are you tryin' to say you're sorry? Is this an apology? Is that what it sounds like when it comes outta you?..."
His stunned and gloating grin gives way to a softer, more sympathetic sort of smile as he watches her standing there, so stiff, so serious. She's wonderful. Terrible, but wonderful. He can't stop himself, he has to reach out. He takes her by the wrist and pulls her down to his level on the couch, laughing as he does.
"Isidor!" he shouts, his smile once more broad and uncontrollable. He goes to put an arm around her shoulder, but first thinks to look toward the door to be sure they're truly alone. That little glance is enough to calm him just enough that both his smile and his voice have softened. He does put his arm around her shoulder then, not a wild toss but a careful draping, and he watches her in quiet satisfaction.
"Isidor, that was... Real sweet of you. It ain't easy to say you're sorry, unless you're a real fuckup like me who's got too much practice. And... Hell, I ain't gonna make a big thing outta this, but it means a lot. Honest. I didn't wanna have to bring it up, but... Lawrence did tell me. And it did hurt. I mean, it ain't like I cried or nothin', but... I read the worst into it. And I was wrong. And you know who made me realize I was wrong?"
He nods his head toward the door. "Lawrence. He told me it was just a mistake. That you weren't tryin' to be mean. He said I oughta give you another chance. But only if you apologized. Which you did." He pats her shoulder lightly and begins to nod. "And now we don't ever gotta bring it up again. Isidor's only mistake ever." Okay, he may not bring it up out loud, but the tug at the corners of his lips suggests he's going to be thinking about it for a while.
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"Lawrence?" She repeats in disblief, frowning in confusion. Clearly that man is up to something... but she has no idea what. This is all very frustrating and confusing. Whatever his angle, she's not going to discover it today. There are more important things to discuss. "I didn't mean to hurt you, you know. I was trying to make your family glad we're your friends. I thought that this was you letting us into your world. That's why I... did what I did."
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His lips shift side to side as he weighs his options on how to explain this. Eventually he knows, and with a serious demeanor he explains, "What I thought when I heard that you called me by that name was... That... I wasn't good enough as the person I am. That maybe you woulda preferred I was someone I used to be, or that was the 'normal' me that's safe to talk about in public. I started to regret bein' who I am – the way I am. It don't make any sense now when I'm tryin' to explain it, but when I heard you called me by that name I... Resented tellin' you that thing I told you when we were in Stormwind. Because I thought that you of all people would know why I'm not that person anymore."
He forces a little smile and jostles her gently to assure her that those feelings are gone. "Lawrence doesn't know what you know. Nobody in the family knows what you know, except Anna. But I think he knew that what I was feelin' wasn't right. He didn't want me to hate you for the wrong reasons. And... Talkin' with him made me realize that I made a mistake, too? I thought the worst of what you did, when I shoulda given you the benefit of the doubt. I shoulda known you wouldn't want to... I-I don't know. You wouldn't want to hurt me, because we're friends. You wouldn't mock me or hope I was somethin' that I'm not. And so I wanna make an apology, too."
He leans away just slightly so that he can get a good look at Isidor's face. The smile that he forced before becomes more genuine, though no larger than the slightest turn of his lips. "I'm sorry for not believin' in you when I shoulda. And from now on when things don't seem right, I'm gonna give you the benefit of the doubt. I'll put my trust in you, 'cause you deserve it."
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The mention of him apologising deepens the creases in her brow until he says his piece. "You don't have anything to apologise for, Harrowheart. We both have things to learn."
"Everyone I've ever known considers their history important. It's a part of us whether it was good or bad. But sometimes it's private and we keep it for special people. I thought your name was like that. I thought you were just... sharing it with us. I didn't think you'd be ashamed of it." She sighs and her gaze dips for a moment. "Viatorus talked to me afterwards. He reminded me of the power names have over us. Just because I say mine freely means everyone else does. He said that your old name is like your True Name. I don't have the right to use it, or even know it, unless you want me to. I understand that now."
"And Harrowheart..." She hesitates and then, very slowly, rests a hand on his knee before looking him in the eye. "Don't be ashamed. Not of who you were, or who you are."
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And then she touches him, which is wholly unexpected. She looks him in the eye and he finds he can't look away. And what she says...
It's easy not to be ashamed of who you are when you're a Durant. It's probably the simplest advice and the greatest truth in the world for Isidor. But for him? His mind fills with the sort of doubts that always plagued him. A dozen reasons to rebut her leap forward in his thoughts until he remembers exactly what he'd just promised her.
Trust her.
He realizes then, past his doubts, the implications of it all. It isn't just a command for him to follow. She's passing her own judgement on him. She isn't ashamed of him. All at once it feels like the answer to so many questions he hadn't been brave enough to ask. His poverty. His history. His curse. His death.
He presses one hand to his cheek and tries to subtly wipe away the tear that's clouding his vision. Despite everything she's said it's hard not not to feel self-conscious about his emotions and he tries to hide them in a little laugh. It's not at all convincing and he knows it, so instead he hides his face by pulling her into a close hug and turning his head away.
It's a brief hold, and it ends with a determined nodding of his head and the hint of a smile despite the moisture at his cheeks. With another little laugh, this one more sincere, he says, "If you're not careful I'm gonna wind up with some self-esteem. I'll... Work on it. For you. Around you, anyway. I can't guarantee nothin' when I finally gotta make eye contact with your father."
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"Don't worry about the Archon." She offers him an oddly gentle, encouraging smile. Then her eyebrows lift and she reaches into her jacket, pulling out two envelopes. She hands one to him first. It's a fine quality paper with elegant writing with embossed gold designs. "Your invitation to Runa and Viatorus' engagement ceremony. You have a plus one. I'll pick you up."
Then she offers up the other envelope. "This is a guide for you. I know this will be a very different kind of event to what you're used to. The people there will be different to the people you're used to. I wanted to give you a few guidelines to work with."
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His eyebrows furrow as he reads the contents, but more out of concentration than disappointment. His lips move along with the words as he reads, which he does not do quickly. Sometimes he has to read sentences more than once to be sure he's understood properly.
He tisks when he reads something and points to the list. "What do you mean don't smell anyone? I don't smell anyone. And even if I did – which I don't! – it would be because smell is a very good way to remember someone." A few seconds of silence pass before he mumbles, "But I won't smell anyone."
Another little tisk, this one more disappointed than offended. "No phone? Not even to look stuff up?" Still, he nods. He accepts this, even though it's going to be difficult.
He then goes on to practice the open-palmed point at various things in the room and nods when he's sure he's got it. That's simple enough, even if remembering it may not come instinctually. He uses that same gesture to address the next point. "Rooms that're protected by magic? How will I know?"
And having asked that he folds up the list and looks at her seriously. "And what should I do when I meet your uncle and your mother?"
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Except maybe the one about smelling people. That may or may not have been a revised version of 'do not smell butts' but that seemed too rude to write, along with 'do not pee on trees'. Really, she's not sure how far the 'dog-person' thing goes, but better to be safe than sorry.
"No phone," she reiterates.
"You'll feel it. A hum of power. If you don't then you'll see runes or a gargoyle around the doorway." It's a general rule, and doesn't cover anywhere that the Archon has decided just that day to protect, but it should be enough.
"Oh." That was not a question she expected. Especially not specifically about her mother and uncle, but not her father. She hesitates even as she answers. "Be polite and respectful... My uncle is a straightforward man, as Durants go. He's not good with idle chatter. He likes conversations to have a point. My mother..." How to describe her... "Just be honest and polite with her, she'll respect you more for it. She's a perfect lady in every regard."
Isidor trusts Harrowheart in a lot of things, but rivaling her mother in social nuances is not one of them. Whatever conversation they might have, her mother will have complete control at all times, but telling that to Harrowheart seems like a bad idea.
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"Xenia," he finally says. "It's all Xenia. Good manners are like respect to the folks who invited me. I-I'll do my best, and if I make a mistake I'll try to fix it." One final nod. He can do this.
He looks up at Isidor again with a small, proud smile. "It's Runa and Viatorus' special night. I'm not gonna be the one to ruin it. You're gonna be proud of me." He taps the list with the back of his hand and says in total confidence, "I'll learn the rules, I'll come dressed up, I'll be real quiet, and everyone's gonna have a good time."