dee & romund - walkies
Who: Dee & Romund
When: 23rd October
Where: The streets of Tyrol!
Ratings & Warnings: PG for dog going cray.
There were not many errands that required Romund to leave his estate. Most called on him, and his servants, ever eager to be out of his presence and the constant lurking spectre of his daughter, went out on every conceivable errand before he could even ask it of them. Tonight, Romund had decided, he would leave himself, and leave without purpose.
A walk. It seemed such a strange thing to crave, but he'd done so little that wasn't pertinent since his return from the grave that it felt almost as if he was rewarding himself for a job well-done. He did not entirely think it was well-done, but perhaps walking the city's streets would help him understand its inhabitants better. Most he passed stopped to gape at him, though some only gave him a brief, startled once-over before they returned to whatever they'd been doing. It was comforting to know that even a man of his size had become such a commonplace sight that the citizens of Tyrol weren't alarmed.
"Good evening," he rumbled to a small child who waved at him. He paused briefly under a streetlamp, trying to get his bearing. It had been such a long time since he'd walked through the streets that he'd forgotten where exactly they all led to.
Night patrol, one of her last. Dee sucked in a breath and sighed it out again, staring at the streets that lay before her. Simon seemed conflicted as he walked beside her, happy to be walking on the beat, annoyed to be out of his warm bed. Dee felt the same. It was good to be away from Diya, with his dark mood. She slept during the day and was out at night, avoiding him as much as possible. When she'd started the night shift two days ago, she'd instinctively begun switching the rooms she slept in every day so that he couldn't wake her for his own amusement. Yesterday she'd even contemplated hiding in one of the kitchen cabinets to doze. When she got home today, well...she still hadn't completely explored the top floor. There, perhaps?
Lost in thoughts of her new life rather than the job before her - the job she'd soon be leaving, she reminded herself - she started out of her funk with guilt when she realised Simon had stopped. She went to take a step forwards and he yelped, shaking his head. He leaped strangely, his movements jerky, asymmetrical, whimpering and barking. Trusting him not to bite but glad of her thick gloves nonetheless, Dee grabbed him by the collar and tugged hard to drag him out of biting range of a small child who'd stopped to gape and he stopped just as suddenly as he'd started.
Confused and a little frightened as her dog lay down and seemed to cry, Dee looked around for help. Her eyes fell upon the giant of a man and she stared before recognising him. "Good evening, Lord Myron!" Could he help her drag Simon back to the barracks? It would be rude to ask, she reminded herself, blinking quickly.
"Guardswoman," he replied, heavy brow wrinkling at the sight of her dog. Of course. He hadn't considered that. Embarrassed and guilty, he hung back.
"Forgive me. Animals do not respond well to my presence." Had he hurt it? There had been dogs that wandered onto his property in the beginning, but they'd since wised up, kept away. Some of the other animals weren't so wise; they'd found a cat in the chimney flue, and one of the servants had nervously remarked that they'd seen an entire flock of birds drop out of the sky, dead, when they'd flown over the estate. Romund's overcoat gave a quiet creak in the wind, and he hesitated, wondering quite what to say. His lone night in an unofficial capacity, a casual, for-himself capacity, he seemed to have lost the ability to carry conversation.
Dee thought about what he'd said, then bending to lift Simon slightly, pulled him further away from the undead lord. Rubbing the back of his neck, she crooned a few soothing words into his ear, turning over the fact that Lord Myron had apparently left his estate to wander the night. She'd heard of him leaving only twice; to visit the king to discuss the rights of Others and to fight the imposter Cita. He was lingering, which looked good. It meant that whatever business he was on wasn't urgent. Dee considered the number of days she had left versus how fucked she'd be if it turned out he needed something important.
"Stay," her voice was a soft, but firm command. Simon, flopped on the ground, was in no condition to refuse it.
Striding over to Lord Myron, she considered whether or not stopping to talk with him was a bad idea. Her dog's reaction was a bad omen, but he didn't seem like a bad sort. Still, she folded her arms over her chest unconsciously as she approached. "I would," hesitation. She was still getting used to this noble speak; her tongue tripped over every other word, it felt like. "Speak with you."
No, that sounded as though she had something she wanted to discuss, important news or the like. "I was going to ask how you fared since the battle." Much better.
He watched her draw close, at once curious and impressed. Though Romund thought himself so slow and dull that the idea of others fearing him was still foreign to him, he'd grown so used to cowering and quick, anxious looks lately that the Guardswoman's candor surprised him.
"Of course," he rumbled, inclining his head briefly. This was one of the Guardsmen that had been present at his meeting with the King, if he remembered correctly. It was her hair that stuck in his memory. Very bright. "Guardswoman... Cosimo?" he hazarded. Hadn't she married recently?
"Grieving, my Lady-" Yes, it'd been a Lord she'd married, Romund thought with a frown. "But I myself am well." He forced a small, timid sort of smile that looked more a grimace than an expression of happiness. "It is very hard to kill a dead man. And yourself?"
Grieving? Did someone important die? Dee pushed a hand through her hair, looking back to check on Simon before glancing back to Lord Myron. "I'm sorry. Someone close to you passed?" She couldn't imagine anyone getting close to the moving mountain. He'd had family before he fell off his roof, she recalled that from the investigation.
"I am well. My husband," urgh, "and my younger sister were both injured in the attack on the Hour, but they're healing." She'd gotten off scot-free, a fact that still felt strange. Perhaps it was simply that she had more experience than they did, more practise at being in danger.
"Close? No," Romund replied gravely, sadly. The wind whipped at his long coat, and his eyes narrowed against it. "But many lives were lost that day. I mourn them." He'd wondered, at first, if such a thing could've been avoided if he'd tried harder to reason with the creature that had called himself Cita, but in the end he knew such regrets were pointless. Locusts, he'd called them. No amount of reason would have rerouted his goals.
"I see. They are not lasting injuries, I hope." Cosimo. It was a name he'd heard before, but he couldn't put faces to the rest. Quite a few of them, weren't there? As to the Guardswoman's husband, Romund knew him only as the King's consort. An awkward position for a wife to be in.
"Oh," Dee felt slightly uncomfortable at how easily she herself had carried on. The Hour had been full of deaths, Lucia's friends had been injured, Rasmus's friend had died - but she'd gotten on with her life as though nothing had happened. Even quit her job to begin another. Mourning every life lost seemed like the act of a kind priest rather than an undead man, a strangely sweet thing to do. Dee kicked the dirt, looking at her feet before craning her neck to look at his face again.
"They'll be alright. What brings you out here?"
Romund hesitated, frowning up at the night sky before he replied, somewhat sheepishly, "Nothing. That is to say, for once my schedule was... open. I realized I had not taken a walk without purpose since before my death. I felt I was due for one."
He gave a little incline of his head again. "My apologies, Guardswoman, for upsetting your dog. I had not considered some of the side effects my presence has."
Oh. Dee felt a knot of anxiety release slightly in her stomach and smiled openly at him, speaking before she realised what she was saying. "Thank Cita! I was a little worried."
She cast another look back at her dog. Poor Simon was still on the ground where she'd left him. It was a relief though, to know that this was Lord Myron's effect and not something wrong with her beloved partner. "Is it permanent?" She asked after a moment's hesitation.
Romund laughed, a low chuckle that sounded like a roll of thunder. "I must represent a horrible omen to the Guard to earn such relief for doing nothing. I hope my resurrection has not been too hard for you. I have spoken with your superiors on such matters, but I had not thought to consider the patrolmen as well. Have Others given you trouble, my Lady?"
And, after a pause, "It should not be. It is... extended amounts of time near me, I believe." His voice softened, lowered. "It drives them mad."
"Oh, no!" Dee shook her head, a wide smile growing over her face. "The only times I've seen you out and about something terrible's happened. Just wanted to make sure everything was alright!"
Dee looked back at Simon, her mouth becoming a line. "I'd better go back to him," she told the lord, apologetic.
"Ah." It made sense. He'd reflected on a similar sentiment earlier; he only ever left his Estate with a purpose. "To my knowledge," Romund said with a grave nod, "I am not preceding any horrible event."
At her glance to her dog, he nodded again, his coat creaking as he inclined his head. "Of course. My apologies for disturbing him. Tell me your route tonight, my Lady, and I will take a different one."
"Oh," Dee let out a small laugh of relief, then looked back at Simon. "Have a good walk, Lord Myron. We'll be heading around the market, now." She looked back to him with a smile, then back to her dog. "I should get back to my patrol." Saluting him, she took a few steps towards Simon. "Goodbye."
When: 23rd October
Where: The streets of Tyrol!
Ratings & Warnings: PG for dog going cray.
There were not many errands that required Romund to leave his estate. Most called on him, and his servants, ever eager to be out of his presence and the constant lurking spectre of his daughter, went out on every conceivable errand before he could even ask it of them. Tonight, Romund had decided, he would leave himself, and leave without purpose.
A walk. It seemed such a strange thing to crave, but he'd done so little that wasn't pertinent since his return from the grave that it felt almost as if he was rewarding himself for a job well-done. He did not entirely think it was well-done, but perhaps walking the city's streets would help him understand its inhabitants better. Most he passed stopped to gape at him, though some only gave him a brief, startled once-over before they returned to whatever they'd been doing. It was comforting to know that even a man of his size had become such a commonplace sight that the citizens of Tyrol weren't alarmed.
"Good evening," he rumbled to a small child who waved at him. He paused briefly under a streetlamp, trying to get his bearing. It had been such a long time since he'd walked through the streets that he'd forgotten where exactly they all led to.
Night patrol, one of her last. Dee sucked in a breath and sighed it out again, staring at the streets that lay before her. Simon seemed conflicted as he walked beside her, happy to be walking on the beat, annoyed to be out of his warm bed. Dee felt the same. It was good to be away from Diya, with his dark mood. She slept during the day and was out at night, avoiding him as much as possible. When she'd started the night shift two days ago, she'd instinctively begun switching the rooms she slept in every day so that he couldn't wake her for his own amusement. Yesterday she'd even contemplated hiding in one of the kitchen cabinets to doze. When she got home today, well...she still hadn't completely explored the top floor. There, perhaps?
Lost in thoughts of her new life rather than the job before her - the job she'd soon be leaving, she reminded herself - she started out of her funk with guilt when she realised Simon had stopped. She went to take a step forwards and he yelped, shaking his head. He leaped strangely, his movements jerky, asymmetrical, whimpering and barking. Trusting him not to bite but glad of her thick gloves nonetheless, Dee grabbed him by the collar and tugged hard to drag him out of biting range of a small child who'd stopped to gape and he stopped just as suddenly as he'd started.
Confused and a little frightened as her dog lay down and seemed to cry, Dee looked around for help. Her eyes fell upon the giant of a man and she stared before recognising him. "Good evening, Lord Myron!" Could he help her drag Simon back to the barracks? It would be rude to ask, she reminded herself, blinking quickly.
"Guardswoman," he replied, heavy brow wrinkling at the sight of her dog. Of course. He hadn't considered that. Embarrassed and guilty, he hung back.
"Forgive me. Animals do not respond well to my presence." Had he hurt it? There had been dogs that wandered onto his property in the beginning, but they'd since wised up, kept away. Some of the other animals weren't so wise; they'd found a cat in the chimney flue, and one of the servants had nervously remarked that they'd seen an entire flock of birds drop out of the sky, dead, when they'd flown over the estate. Romund's overcoat gave a quiet creak in the wind, and he hesitated, wondering quite what to say. His lone night in an unofficial capacity, a casual, for-himself capacity, he seemed to have lost the ability to carry conversation.
Dee thought about what he'd said, then bending to lift Simon slightly, pulled him further away from the undead lord. Rubbing the back of his neck, she crooned a few soothing words into his ear, turning over the fact that Lord Myron had apparently left his estate to wander the night. She'd heard of him leaving only twice; to visit the king to discuss the rights of Others and to fight the imposter Cita. He was lingering, which looked good. It meant that whatever business he was on wasn't urgent. Dee considered the number of days she had left versus how fucked she'd be if it turned out he needed something important.
"Stay," her voice was a soft, but firm command. Simon, flopped on the ground, was in no condition to refuse it.
Striding over to Lord Myron, she considered whether or not stopping to talk with him was a bad idea. Her dog's reaction was a bad omen, but he didn't seem like a bad sort. Still, she folded her arms over her chest unconsciously as she approached. "I would," hesitation. She was still getting used to this noble speak; her tongue tripped over every other word, it felt like. "Speak with you."
No, that sounded as though she had something she wanted to discuss, important news or the like. "I was going to ask how you fared since the battle." Much better.
He watched her draw close, at once curious and impressed. Though Romund thought himself so slow and dull that the idea of others fearing him was still foreign to him, he'd grown so used to cowering and quick, anxious looks lately that the Guardswoman's candor surprised him.
"Of course," he rumbled, inclining his head briefly. This was one of the Guardsmen that had been present at his meeting with the King, if he remembered correctly. It was her hair that stuck in his memory. Very bright. "Guardswoman... Cosimo?" he hazarded. Hadn't she married recently?
"Grieving, my Lady-" Yes, it'd been a Lord she'd married, Romund thought with a frown. "But I myself am well." He forced a small, timid sort of smile that looked more a grimace than an expression of happiness. "It is very hard to kill a dead man. And yourself?"
Grieving? Did someone important die? Dee pushed a hand through her hair, looking back to check on Simon before glancing back to Lord Myron. "I'm sorry. Someone close to you passed?" She couldn't imagine anyone getting close to the moving mountain. He'd had family before he fell off his roof, she recalled that from the investigation.
"I am well. My husband," urgh, "and my younger sister were both injured in the attack on the Hour, but they're healing." She'd gotten off scot-free, a fact that still felt strange. Perhaps it was simply that she had more experience than they did, more practise at being in danger.
"Close? No," Romund replied gravely, sadly. The wind whipped at his long coat, and his eyes narrowed against it. "But many lives were lost that day. I mourn them." He'd wondered, at first, if such a thing could've been avoided if he'd tried harder to reason with the creature that had called himself Cita, but in the end he knew such regrets were pointless. Locusts, he'd called them. No amount of reason would have rerouted his goals.
"I see. They are not lasting injuries, I hope." Cosimo. It was a name he'd heard before, but he couldn't put faces to the rest. Quite a few of them, weren't there? As to the Guardswoman's husband, Romund knew him only as the King's consort. An awkward position for a wife to be in.
"Oh," Dee felt slightly uncomfortable at how easily she herself had carried on. The Hour had been full of deaths, Lucia's friends had been injured, Rasmus's friend had died - but she'd gotten on with her life as though nothing had happened. Even quit her job to begin another. Mourning every life lost seemed like the act of a kind priest rather than an undead man, a strangely sweet thing to do. Dee kicked the dirt, looking at her feet before craning her neck to look at his face again.
"They'll be alright. What brings you out here?"
Romund hesitated, frowning up at the night sky before he replied, somewhat sheepishly, "Nothing. That is to say, for once my schedule was... open. I realized I had not taken a walk without purpose since before my death. I felt I was due for one."
He gave a little incline of his head again. "My apologies, Guardswoman, for upsetting your dog. I had not considered some of the side effects my presence has."
Oh. Dee felt a knot of anxiety release slightly in her stomach and smiled openly at him, speaking before she realised what she was saying. "Thank Cita! I was a little worried."
She cast another look back at her dog. Poor Simon was still on the ground where she'd left him. It was a relief though, to know that this was Lord Myron's effect and not something wrong with her beloved partner. "Is it permanent?" She asked after a moment's hesitation.
Romund laughed, a low chuckle that sounded like a roll of thunder. "I must represent a horrible omen to the Guard to earn such relief for doing nothing. I hope my resurrection has not been too hard for you. I have spoken with your superiors on such matters, but I had not thought to consider the patrolmen as well. Have Others given you trouble, my Lady?"
And, after a pause, "It should not be. It is... extended amounts of time near me, I believe." His voice softened, lowered. "It drives them mad."
"Oh, no!" Dee shook her head, a wide smile growing over her face. "The only times I've seen you out and about something terrible's happened. Just wanted to make sure everything was alright!"
Dee looked back at Simon, her mouth becoming a line. "I'd better go back to him," she told the lord, apologetic.
"Ah." It made sense. He'd reflected on a similar sentiment earlier; he only ever left his Estate with a purpose. "To my knowledge," Romund said with a grave nod, "I am not preceding any horrible event."
At her glance to her dog, he nodded again, his coat creaking as he inclined his head. "Of course. My apologies for disturbing him. Tell me your route tonight, my Lady, and I will take a different one."
"Oh," Dee let out a small laugh of relief, then looked back at Simon. "Have a good walk, Lord Myron. We'll be heading around the market, now." She looked back to him with a smile, then back to her dog. "I should get back to my patrol." Saluting him, she took a few steps towards Simon. "Goodbye."