Sequel

Sequel is oddly coming easier now that I've stopped really trying to come up with a chapter for Partners every time I update Sequel. I feel bad about not updating Partners, but at the same time, Sequel has a lot of ground to cover in a day while Partners doesn't.

I'm also wondering how to pull Taln into Sequel to expand on Taln's crush without having Mik follow Taln around. Maybe it'll happen, maybe not.

There's a bit of information in here that amused me and kind of made me think and wonder.

According to this, the Darkest Night is coming up and the two lovers (not THE lovers, just two lovers) haven't shown themselves yet. It's been kind of up in the air as to who. As... well there are a good deal of lovers to pick from.

Read, Review and Enjoy.




Muan was still sleeping when Rel finally figured out how to make coffee. He had never had to make his own coffee. Everyone else was always making it, always had coffee ready for him when he came by. He had spend so little time at home that he had never used the brand new coffee machine. It had just sat on his counter, for two years.

Rel was watching the dark liquid trickle into metal pot when the elevator dinged. Standing so that he could see the coffee trickle into the pot was awkward, so Rel turned his attention to the elevator instead.

Koln stepped off with a box in his hands and a large duffle bag over one shoulder. The older man crossed the floor and set the box on the table before setting the duffle bag down very carefully beside the box.

“Do you know how to cook? Did I ask you that?” Koln muttered.

“Yes, I know how to cook, it’s an obsession of mine.” one of many.

“Is that coffee?” Koln asked, motioning to the coffee maker, “I didn’t get my cup this morning. Essuan threw all the coffee grinds out for some reason.”

“It’s almost done, what did you bring me?” Rel motioned to the box and bag, edging closer in hopes of getting a peek.

Koln made a welcoming motion and Rel opened the duffle bag first. Food. Chicken and limes and eggs and rice and all kinds of goodies that made him absolutely drool. But no spices. Because… Rel frowned as he put the last of the items away into the already full kitchen. Because herbs and spices started as plants and he had plants. Thus he had herbs amongst his plants.

Except he had no idea what they looked like and for about two minutes had forgotten that herbs came from a living plant.

It was going to be a long day.

In the box were craft supplies. Or, at least he guessed they were craft supplies. Crafting was not his strong suit. Beads and paints and papers in blues and greens and whites and greys. Winter sort of colours. Sparkles. Containers and containers of sparkles. Strings and threads and even a needle and a pair of scissors.

Well if they gave him knives, they couldn’t really complain about a lousy pair of scissors, now could they?

At the bottom of it all was a book on winter festival traditional decorations. Rel looked up at Koln for an explanation.

“The Sidhe are complaining about the winter festival. The partners want to celebrate but the Sidhe think it’s all about what the television says it’s about. They aren’t the best at picking up sarcasm. Mari thinks that if you make decorations for winter festival in the traditional ways, then the Sidhe might enjoy those better.”

“Candles,” Rel muttered. Floral arrangements had always interested him, “now a-days we use fake but Sidhe seem to like eating plants. And I’ve seen some nice traditional arrangements with candles. It started with candles. Light six candles for six days and then on the seventh day all candles are put out and only a single lamp is lit, to let those in the village know that everyone is still alive. Something about the seventh day and the shadow daemon’s having free reign amongst the people.

“Amongst the dirtier, lower places in a city, it was once the night that brothels opened their doors to patrons for free. A sign of good faith to patrons. Except any patron taking part in the tradition won’t touch the whores, because on the…” darkest night, the whores used to call it the darkest night, the night of calm before the storm.

“Rel?”

“Sorry,” Rel turned to the coffee, “I… got distracted. On the dark night of the celebration the whores would be considered Rahl-ta’s shadow daemon and any who went to them were usually found dead in a gutter the next morning.”

“Doesn’t Illuva say something about the darkest night?” Koln murmured.

“Yes.”

“Coffee ready?”

Rel reached for the coffee pot and stopped, hand just short of the handle. That change in conversation was not only abrupt, there was not connection between one and the next. Rel grabbed the pot and poured two cups before offering Koln sugar and milk. Rel gave the milk a sniff, wondering what it would be, and was startled to find that it was real, actual milk. Unprocessed, unmade. No crap in it. Like the stuff he used to drink as a kid because his father wouldn’t pay the extra money for the ‘safe’ milk. He loved the stuff.

Settled at the table with coffee, Koln across from him, Rel looked over the older man. There was no sign of religion. There was no outward verbal response that Rel could get the man to rise to. If Koln had no religion, the suggestion of being a follower of De would bristle him. If Koln followed religion, suggesting that Koln followed De would be an insult and could cause something… bad. Military men were strong, big, and tended to hit and then ask questions. They were chosen for those reasons.

Muan appeared behind Koln, startling Rel out of thought. The Sidhe looked down at Koln and seemed to sum him up. Muan set a hand on either of Koln’s shoulders.

The man didn’t react. Koln sipped his coffee as if nothing were amiss. Despite the fact that that was not a comforting gesture, despite how it might look to an outside observer. Muan never touched anyone, he rarely touched Rel. The motion was bristling and disturbing at the same time. Koln looked up at Rel.

“I know it’s a threat,” Koln murmured quietly, looking down into his mug, “but I am hardly concerned with it. What I am concerned with, is how he read a threat from this,” a small motion to the table, “when there was absolutely nothing in your expression to show that you were threatened.”

“Sidhe read body language, Muan, come away from him,” Rel beckoned Muan. The Sidhe slid away and settled into a chair besides Rel, “what we don’t see, he does.”

“No expression, no move. You’re quite good at hiding your emotions,” Koln smiled and Rel’s heart skipped a beat, “and your thoughts.”

He was being played. Koln had no interest in him.

Rel sipped his coffee, rolled the dark liquid around on his tongue and then swallowed, “oh my god.”

“Is it bad?” Koln frowned and looked down at his own mug, “I thought it tasted okay.”

“No, no, not bad,” best fucking coffee ever, “haven’t had coffee in like a year. This is really, really. Like, wow.”

Muan reached for the mug just as Koln snarled. The Sidhe flinched away from cup and man, whining loudly.

“Sorry,” Koln muttered, “I keep doing that. Really shouldn’t growl at Sidhe, least I challenge one of them, but. It just keeps coming up. Faster than words and works better than words too.”

“What the hell, if he wants to try the coffee…”

“No. No,” Koln stressed the word, “Rel. Think squirrel on crack on speed on caffeine on sugar on adrenaline. For a stable Sidhe it’s … disturbing. For an unstable Sidhe it could be disastrous. Would be disastrous. Finish your coffee, try some crafts. He’ll likely go down for a nap around five. He’ll sleep for an hour or so and then want supper. I would suggest making supper while he’s sleeping, unless you want him investigating the knives and such.”


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