It's almost true winter, even if it is only November. The dark branches of now-leafless trees are lined with the same snow that covers the ground, blanketing Toronto in a clean and shining white
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It's not surprising to see snow in Toronto in November. In fact, it'd be more surprising not to see it.
It's annoying as hell, though, Dave thinks, maneuvering his way towards the restaurant entrance. Especially when you're wearing nice leather shoes and what is, in fact, a very snazzy suit - and it looks as if you're already late.
Dave veers in the direction of the trio at the table.
"Hi, everyone," he says, slightly sheepish.
The old Dave would have scowled at Kevin's comment, and hunched his shoulders. The New Dave (as he imagines himself) eyes Kevin's jacket, and says, airily, "Last week. Can't wear the same old jackets all year, can I?"
"It's okay," Dave says, kindly. Looking down at Kevin, who is rather significantly shorter than he is.
"I'm tough. I can take it."
He grins at Kim, and then looks back at Kevin. Who is still shorter than he is.
But Dave isn't thinking about the height difference, exactly. What he's thinking about now is Kevin Laine's face - his face seven months before, in a room at the Park Plaza Hotel. His face, as he swore an oath, looking down at the wreckage of a woman, the wreckage of Jennifer, on the floor.
To this I will make reply although he be a god and it mean my death.
Dave's less sensitive these days, it's true. His time in Fionavar has done a lot for him.
But Kevin, especially, gets a little latitude - Kevin, who used to be the most jarring thorn in Dave's side.
Because even though three-quarters of the time his words jab without meaning it, and sometimes hurt like hell - well. When he gets them right, he gets them right.
"All right," she says, very softly. She is who she is, and more than she was once, and in any case it's not that hard to know what Dave must be thinking now.
Kim's bright smile has faded into something more solemn as she shoves her cloud-white hair back from her face, impatiently.
"Come on. Let's go in. We have things to talk about."
And if she gives the ring on her finger a quick glance as she looks from it to the door, likely only Paul will know the reason why.
There's a space where Jennifer used to be--Kevin can see it.
He can feel it.
And good as it is to see Paul awake and aware and almost himself again--as instrumental as Fionavar was in bringing that about--it is little enough compensation for what was done to Jennifer at the hands of Rakoth Maugrim.
For in truth, there is no compensation at all for such terrible pain, and no revenge in all the worlds, not even that (especially that) sworn by Kevin himself, will ever make anything better.
But it's all he can do.
All any of them can do: Kim with her Sight, Paul the Twiceborn, and Dave, who found himself among the Dalrei--none of them have anything to offer Jennifer.
Nothing.
And as for Kevin--Kevin Laine who has nothing but himself and his all-consuming need for something he's never been able to name--he's never felt so helpless.
In a way, it's stronger here than it was in Milliways. There, there was Raven, and Bran, and the flash of the Baelrath; there was the belief that there was something for them to learn, a purpose in them being there. A belief that was eventually validated.
Here - here, there is only the helplessness. Helplessness, and waiting, and Paul - Paul is not a patient man.
He is silent, as the waitresses come and take their orders. Restraining himself. Silent, until they are alone at the table, and then he looks at Kim, and says only, "Well?"
And you should know that, she almost adds, but doesn't. Not all of those at this table know of the place between worlds that the two of them have visited, while they've all been waiting.
She stabs a fork into the salad in front of her with unnecessary force, then sets it aside.
"Not right now I'm not, and that's all there is to it." Kim sighs, absently turning the vellin stone -- Matt's gift -- around on her wrist as she does.
"There's a place I have to see. I have to find it, and it's not like I can control my dreaming. Wherever it is, it's in this world, that's all I know."
Her clear gray glance flicks to Paul for a long moment before she looks around at the rest of them.
"And I can't do anything else until I do. Do you think I'm enjoying this any more than you three are?"
It's annoying as hell, though, Dave thinks, maneuvering his way towards the restaurant entrance. Especially when you're wearing nice leather shoes and what is, in fact, a very snazzy suit - and it looks as if you're already late.
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And Kevin Laine is more than aware of the suit's snazziness.
"Dave, when did you get the time to snag a new suit?"
Ragging Dave is apparently also on the list of things to do today. That never gets old.
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"Hi, everyone," he says, slightly sheepish.
The old Dave would have scowled at Kevin's comment, and hunched his shoulders. The New Dave (as he imagines himself) eyes Kevin's jacket, and says, airily, "Last week. Can't wear the same old jackets all year, can I?"
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Kevin grins easily, leaning back in his chair. Sparring with Dave almost makes up for the tediousness of studying for the Bar exam.
"If that's a three piece suit my image of you is going to be irrevocably shattered."
Best to warn about these things ahead of time, honestly.
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Beneath: a shattering navy vest.
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Kevin sketches a hasty sign of the cross with his left hand, given that the right is occupied by making the sign against evil.
It has no effect on Dave.
Paul, however, laughs, causing Kevin's grin to broaden.
"Actually it looks very nice."
He pauses, looking innocent.
"Why didn't you buy it in your size?"
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"Oh, Kev, give him a break!" Turning away from him, she adds, "It is nice, Dave, and it fits perfectly-- you look great."
Her smile turns mischievous as she finishes,
"Kevin's just jealous because he's feeling scruffy and underdressed."
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"I am not!"
He adopts a tone of exaggerated gravitas.
"I am simply giving my buddy a hard time."
Then all solemnity falls away, and he looks almost plaintive.
Almost.
"If I can't tease Dave, who can I tease?"
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"I'm tough. I can take it."
He grins at Kim, and then looks back at Kevin. Who is still shorter than he is.
But Dave isn't thinking about the height difference, exactly. What he's thinking about now is Kevin Laine's face - his face seven months before, in a room at the Park Plaza Hotel. His face, as he swore an oath, looking down at the wreckage of a woman, the wreckage of Jennifer, on the floor.
To this I will make reply although he be a god and it mean my death.
Dave's less sensitive these days, it's true. His time in Fionavar has done a lot for him.
But Kevin, especially, gets a little latitude - Kevin, who used to be the most jarring thorn in Dave's side.
Because even though three-quarters of the time his words jab without meaning it, and sometimes hurt like hell - well. When he gets them right, he gets them right.
Reply
Kim's bright smile has faded into something more solemn as she shoves her cloud-white hair back from her face, impatiently.
"Come on. Let's go in. We have things to talk about."
And if she gives the ring on her finger a quick glance as she looks from it to the door, likely only Paul will know the reason why.
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And by the time Kim looks back up, he's already risen, turned to lead them through the door.
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He can feel it.
And good as it is to see Paul awake and aware and almost himself again--as instrumental as Fionavar was in bringing that about--it is little enough compensation for what was done to Jennifer at the hands of Rakoth Maugrim.
For in truth, there is no compensation at all for such terrible pain, and no revenge in all the worlds, not even that (especially that) sworn by Kevin himself, will ever make anything better.
But it's all he can do.
All any of them can do: Kim with her Sight, Paul the Twiceborn, and Dave, who found himself among the Dalrei--none of them have anything to offer Jennifer.
Nothing.
And as for Kevin--Kevin Laine who has nothing but himself and his all-consuming need for something he's never been able to name--he's never felt so helpless.
Reply
In a way, it's stronger here than it was in Milliways. There, there was Raven, and Bran, and the flash of the Baelrath; there was the belief that there was something for them to learn, a purpose in them being there. A belief that was eventually validated.
Here - here, there is only the helplessness. Helplessness, and waiting, and Paul - Paul is not a patient man.
He is silent, as the waitresses come and take their orders. Restraining himself. Silent, until they are alone at the table, and then he looks at Kim, and says only, "Well?"
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Kim both looks and sounds irritated, now.
"If something happens, I'll tell you."
And you should know that, she almost adds, but doesn't. Not all of those at this table know of the place between worlds that the two of them have visited, while they've all been waiting.
She stabs a fork into the salad in front of her with unnecessary force, then sets it aside.
"Stop pushing me, okay?"
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Kevin holds up a conciliatory hand.
"Take it easy, Kim. You have to understand how we feel. You're our only link."
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"There's a place I have to see. I have to find it, and it's not like I can control my dreaming. Wherever it is, it's in this world, that's all I know."
Her clear gray glance flicks to Paul for a long moment before she looks around at the rest of them.
"And I can't do anything else until I do. Do you think I'm enjoying this any more than you three are?"
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