Catching Up

Berra — Catching Up

1627, Fire Season, Harmony Week


Context

Fire Season, Harmony Week, Wildday. At the Saiciae Wedding. [[[s02:session-42|Session 42]]]

Events

. o ( Food. Lots of food. Could feed a clan for a week. )

. o ( Expensive too. )

. o ( Fill my boots. Don’t know when I’ll eat next. )

. o ( Does that make Mellia look bad? )

. o ( Is it Humakti to eat like this? )

. o ( Is it inhospitable not to? )

. o ( Don’t know. Go with eating. Always a plan. )

. o ( I have eaten too much. )

. o ( Maybe a bit of… oooh, they have perry! )

. o ( Just one cup. )

. o ( Right. Yes. That’s better. Feel more settled now. )

. o ( Wait, is that… )

. o ( I wonder if his wife’s here. )

. o ( I was going to talk to her. )

. o ( Don’t see… )

. o ( Not going to ask. )

. o ( Alright. I think they may have sent him here alone. )

. o ( He’s presentable. And noble. )

. o ( And I fucking bet that this house would invite him in person. )

. o ( Bastards. )

. o ( … bastards. )

. o ( Alright. Let’s see how he is then. )

. o ( Wow, that’s a set of curves. Didn’t see it stapled to him… )

… In case, I’m going to talk to her. Or at least, ask, “Excuse me, are you the lady Serenelda?” and bow.

She gives Berra a look, assesses the Humakti with a long stare up and mostly down, and corrects the pronunciation. “Yes, I am she.”

Berra says, “I don’t know if you know who I am, but some people tried to use me to make trouble for you.” A glance at Kesten. “And your husband.”

There is a slight nod, “Yes.”

“I wanted to say sorry about that. I didn’t mean it to happen, and it was probably really awkward. I’m sorry.” Berra looks a bit awkward herself.

“Ah, well, it is fortunate we were clear sighted enough to see through their plans.”

Berra grins. “Yeah. Uh…” It would have been an um, but she manages to avoid that. “Would it be possible to have a word with Lord Kesten?” He gets a glance again. “There’s something that I want to say which might…” A brief pause to think it through. “Be awkward to have to hear.”

She leans over and plants a kiss on his cheek, and shoos him away

Berra watches with a smile that says she likes he’s got someone. “Can we go get you something to drink, maybe?” she asks Serenalda.

“Clearwine, I think, please.”

Another bow, although Berra looks to Kesten to check that he has that, rather than looking like she will do the work herself.

Kesten does indeed peel off to go looking for it

Berra falls into step beside him. “Heya. Lord.” Polite in her own shambolic way. “Did you ever find out where my water bottle got to?” That is, did he ever track down the people who cleared out the warehouse where Lenta was.

He gives a little nod. “Yes. Yes, I would have sent it to you, but it was soiled.”

Berra almost laughs, and then does laugh, although only briefly. “Lenta was not at her best.” She glances around to see who if anyone is watching them.1Failed Scan roll, though.

Nobody, it appears. “Well, that and there was some resistance.”

“I was wondering. Mostly wondering if I should ask, to be honest.”

He waves a hand, “Nothing worth the gift of Orlanth’s air.”

“You know how Mirava from this house disappeared?” It’s almost conversational, but her accent makes it a ‘you know that thing that occurred that I could tell you about’ and not a ‘do you know how it happened’?

His brow rises a little, “Their Grandmother did not indicate such a thing had occured.” It’s not a denial.

“Yeah. So she organised that bit herself, I think. Went off and got married. I don’t know if she left word – but she’s…. um.” Berra steels herself for this bit, or at least finds bronze within.

He waits patiently

“Married Fazzur Wideread.”

Well, at least he didn’t have a mouthful of wine. There is a sharp inhalation, then out.

“Figured you’d want to know.” The unsaid words ‘as soon as possible’ are folded neatly into her tone. Berra does not smirk at his reaction. She is very well behaved.

“More to the point, the Grandmothers will want to know. Not least whether Saiciae is declaring of the Red Earth, which seems unlikely. But what do I know? I am a simple man.”

“Mirava said she wasn’t. I asked. Well, accused, but to make sure she’d reply one way or another. She says she’s changed his mind about a few things.” Berra shrugs. “Always another way.” That last bit’s a quote.

His brow lifts. Probably amusement

“Also, she made him sit down. He tried to be the one to greet us. We were going there to find out what was meant – there was a marriage announcement I think? Varanis was too Airy to calm down and explain exactly. But we met them.”

“And you all walked away?”

“We were under hospitality. In um… Stone over Souls. With the Inhuman King. And Varanis was there. And I fu-… I hate to even say it, but they’re kin. So yeah, we did. For one, I couldn’t see a way of killing him. But I’m pretty sure she thinks she’s being a good Ernaldan. And he did try to talk to us, and she got him to leave us for the conversation with her sister.” Emotions play out all over Berra’s features; an open scroll. Nevertheless, she sounds convinced of what she saw, if not of Mirava’s judgement.

He considers then shrugs, “It is one for the Grandmothers.”

“Yeah, well. I figured you might want to tell someone that.” Berra shrugs, then her mood changes. “Ever find the slave?”

He shakes his head, “She will turn up, if she comes back into play. I would guess she’s back in either Rhigos or Glamour.”

Berra looks briefly confused, like that was not the person she meant.

He considers, “Oh, you mean the sold one? Yes. I have arranged matters.”

Berra almost stops dead-still, then relaxes. “Oh hell. You can’t tell how much that weighed on me. How much… that is, what did it cost you? Can I pay?”

He shakes his head, “Nothing of note. I noted a few truths. It turned out best for everyone.”

“He’s going … I’m not going to ask if he’ll be alright, but can you stop him from suffering?” And then, being Berra, she adds, “Preferably without killing him to stop it.”

He gives another little nod. “He is far away. But safe. In so far as anyone else is.”

“I’d hug you, but it wouldn’t be Humakti, and your wife would get upset, probably, and people would talk. But thank you.” Relief transforms her expression into smiles again.

“No thanks are required. And yes. it would be best to maintain a passive indifference to good news and bad.”

“Just for a moment there, you sounded like my High Sword. Anyhow, those are the three short things, I guess. I’ve got a longer one, but it might need more time.” Berra looks around for where Serenelda is. “Clearwine, she said.”

“She did. Although to be honest, I’m not sure she notices the taste as being much different to other wines.”

“I like perry, but I can’t drink white wine without remembering the time Harrek the Berserk tore someone in half in front of me, when I was trying to drink. Blood in it. It made… well, yeah. Red wine, or perry, or small beer.” Berra lets Kesten go pick up a drink for his wife, and snags a cup of beer for herself, after checking what went into it.

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Berra catches up with Kesten. Two short people at a party