smash_logs | Don't eat the food.

Entry tags:

Don't eat the food.

Who: Zelda, Soryk
When: Nov. 23 - Early Evening
What: Soryk's doing some careful observation and is like to come across a most unexpected surprise. Plans don't always go as... well. Planned.
Where: Zelda's Quarters - AE02b
Warnings: TBD - PROBABLY NOT.

Things are going as I imagined they would, Soryk thought as he tapped the bottom of his chin with some thought.

Caught in the wall mirror by his entryway, he simply stared for several moments, lost in a plethora of contemplation. It was true. As he had planned, things were slowly beginning. Something the way that a ball of snow could start out small and as it rolled along it grew larger. He didn't expect overnight results, but considering the amount of time so far, he had to admit he was a little impressed with himself. And as long as no one died, it'd continue to be perfect.

But in the back of his mind, a nagging thought continued to disrupt him. He had given no warnings to people who likely deserved them. Zelda. Randall. Vianca. Perhaps other members of the staff. Not that he had a great list of those he wanted to protect. There were just a few, admittedly, and considering their eating habits, it was entirely possible that the wrong person ate or drank the wrong thing.

Lady Zelda never requires me to come save her. But all the same... Yet if something happened to her, I could not face myself properly. I have found her, after all. I cannot lose her so soon.

In haste, he crossed the academy grounds and near breathless stopped only when he was at her door. Even in the midst of still trying to put his composure back together, he knocked thrice, loud enough to relay a slight frantic nature.

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Zelda was more than positive that something was wrong, she just didn't know what< exactly. It wasn't an ordinary sickness--she'd been to the infirmary, but nothing they'd given her for the chills, the headaches, the tingling sensations had worked. Logically, then, she wasn't sick, not conventionally. It was something else, she just didn't know what.

Unfortunately, being feverish and routinely throwing up didn't do much for an investigation. She was largely bed-bound, trying to keep fluids in her system, but finding they didn't want to stay down.

Obviously, not in any condition to take visitors, but her innate politeness won out at the knocks.

"Come in," she replied. "It's open."

There were a few things that filtered through his mind when she addressed him. The primary being that she didn't show him in. The secondary that it could have been anyone on the other side of that door, which meant someone to potentially harm her. And she really trusted people at the academy to that extent? In the back of his mind, it made him begin to second guess his own wary nature. But to not be suspicious... that was when everyone would show their true colours.

Whatever the case, he showed himself in, a careful opening of her door and an even more careful closing of it after. As he looked around, he was careful about using his hands only. Any other place, Soryk's concern with germs or contaminates cropped up. But Zelda was so refined and so... pure that he couldn't ever picture anything of hers being tainted.

He felt like his heart crammed itself up into his throat when the reality of the situation dawned on him. Of course she'd gotten caught up in things. Unintentionally, on his part. Damn. When he did find her, blonde hair as it was, angular face that was becoming to the eye, he still saw beauty even in the midst of illness. And for many moments, he didn't know what to say. An apology? No. He couldn't.

"My lady..." he began, and as if he remembered his manners, he shoved aside his surprise in favour of crossing an arm over his chest and bowing. "Is there anything I may bring for you?"

"Please don't trouble yourself," she urged, shaking her head and swallowing. They were both so polite, so formal, even when she was violently ill and there was definitely some royal puke in the trash can. It was almost laughable.

"I've been to the infirmary."

It implied several things at once, both that she was being treated and therefore had what she needed, but also that it wasn't necessarily working.

He picked up on the two primary implications and it was clear that she was a little worse for wear. Soryk tried to remember the Kaldorei in Kalimdor and all that he could recall was waking up to people he'd never seen in his life. And it was those people who'd explained what had happened while he'd slept off the effects of their poison. Truth be told, he'd not been able to replicate what that had done to him, and in all honesty, the Kaldorei weren't about to tell him their secrets.

"If it was trouble," he began as coolly as he could manage, "I would not have offered. I have never been too particularly a charitable man, so if I extend the invitation it must be of grand import." Soryk opted for sitting as carefully as he could at the edge of her bed and he lifted his hand as he reached over, just so she could see that he held nothing, for he had only the intent to feel her forehead.

"Have you been eating? Is that even possible?" He got the feeling that he knew the answer to that, though.

"Even so, I'm sure it will pass."

Zelda could not, of course, be certain of that, but it was very nice of him to offer. "I wouldn't want to make you ill as well."

Not knowing what, exactly, she'd fallen ill with, Zelda couldn't be certain of that, either. She attempted to offer him a smile. "I've been trying."

He had to think about how to word himself. Most of the time he was subtle around her. Even perhaps a little withdrawn. Developing feelings for someone was never a convenient adventure and there was no doubt that she struck something within him, right down to the very stone core. The issue was trying to figure out how to be 'human' enough to deal with it.

"I can think of far worse things to contract by way of your companionship," he reassured her. "Falling ill may very well be a blessing, if I may be so bold." It was probably one of the most polite things he'd ever said to her.

"Permit me to care for you a bit and when you tire of my company, simply say so and I will leave you in peace. But I have watched you long enough and not said as much as I should have." Like confessions of love. Things she deserved to hear and things he had lacked courage to give voice to.

The man had spent years stalking dangerous men and women, in arms against magics he had no defence against, and yet trying to bare his heart was far more frightening than such trifling nonsense.

"It certainly doesn't feel like a blessing," she said, knowing what he was referring to but attempting to make a joke anyway. It was more to hide her own feelings than anything else. Zelda supposed, if she didn't know Soryk as Sheik, she might be much less conflicted about him. She often felt like there were two distinct sides to the man--though he was very kind to her, she could not say the same for her Sheikah counterpart, and that, of course, was something of a problem.

It was times like these she wished she didn't have the alter ego at all. Things would be so much simpler that way.

Even questionable company, however, was better than being alone and miserable, and besides, if she sent him away, there was the possibility he'd become suspicious. However slight, it was a risk she couldn't afford to take.

"If you insist, you may stay."

To date, there was precisely one time in which Soryk had drawn a line between Sheik and Zelda. One only, however, and perhaps that was incredible. In the world he came from, there were secrets, but nothing like the one hidden beneath the proverbial wings of the woman who captured him so.

"I do insist," Soryk agreed with the hint of a smile in his mouth.

He cast another look about her room, trying to see what kind of things he could piece together about her. "With the greatest of sympathies, I apologise for this plight you are suffering. Are you certain there is nothing I can get for you? Or is it merely my company that would be good enough for you?"

Well, there was no stopping him now. Zelda gestured to a chair that he could pull up, if he so chose. She had to admit, at least, that some conversation would be nice.

Zelda leaned back on her pillow and closed her eyes, partly to rest them, partly to think about what she wanted him to do.

"Would you mind getting me some water? There are cups in our restroom."

Might as well put him to work, she reasoned.

Edited 2014-12-15 03:11 (UTC)

He eyed the chair when she pointed it out, gave a subtle nod, and was very quick to duck into her bathroom. Giving a quick look around, he made a mental note about the colour of the walls, the way it was decorated, which things must have been hers, and so on. If only so he had an idea of what he could give her for future gifts.

Soryk returned with a filled cup of water for her and pulled up the said chair she had offered. Then he held over her water patiently. "Here you are," he said. "Lady Zelda, if I may... How long have you been here? The academy, I mean." There was no time like the present. And if she so happened to fall asleep while he was there, he'd quietly see himself.

And perhaps sneak himself a kiss.

"The academy?"

She had to think about that for a moment, running the years of schooling through her head. It had been a long time--perhaps too long, given her responsibilities at home. Zelda knew she had to be thankful for her father's understanding, but eventually, she would need to leave. One day she would be queen, after all.

"I graduated from here," she began, taking the cup of water and making an attempt to drink. "I suppose it's been six or seven years, now."

Graduated. It was a term he didn't quite understand. Schooling in Quel'thalas hadn't quite worked the same way and all of his education was privately administered. There could be no outside interference and peers his own age had been certainly considered 'interference.' At least in his mother's eyes.

"That is a good many a year, my lady," Soryk observed with a nod. "Why is it that you stay here? I recall I have, in my attempts to understand you, discovered you are a woman of importance. Nobility of a fashion, which is obvious to the cultured eye." He was too, of course, but even if he had an obligation, he couldn't say he'd want to go.

"This place is so diminished in comparison to you. You should be somewhere more fitting a woman of your station," he continued as gently as he could, which was hard considering he was so accustomed to being a stern man.

"It is."

Zelda leaned back on her pillows, considering. He was right, of course, and when push came to shove, she knew she would have to leave. There wasn't any way for her to stay forever, as much as it pained her, even if she couldn't quite put her finger on why.

In fact, she felt the slightest touch of offense at what seemed to be some kind of backhanded compliment. Though she was sure he didn't intend to insult her, somehow, his insulting the school made her feel slighted in turn.

"I suppose I've grown very fond of this place," she said, choosing her words carefully. "And of some of the people."

It was no grand secret that Soryk had something of a love-hate relationship with the academy. The changes and foreign concepts were obnoxious at best and he never had been too good with change. Survival, yes. But it never meant he had to actually enjoy the process. And at first, he didn't.

That being said...

Much of what she said resonated with him, even though he didn't immediately show it. Instead, he gave into an eventual slow nodding and looked aside. "Yes..." he began with heavy thought and consideration. "I do believe I understand very well what you mean."

I am poor with making allies here, he thought to himself. Yet a part of me has begun attempting to change that. Spreading a poison about is no good way to do that. Punishing a majority of innocents and pulling you into it—and Vianca or others—hardly seems wise on my part. I should have realised that sooner.

"I..." Except how to voice what he wanted to say, because for as direct and blunt as he could be over trivial subjects, when it came to the heart, he'd somewhat forgotten how to use his. Although he'd tried with Zelda time and time again. And she had been patient, hadn't she? "...feel much the same way," came the somewhat cowardly remark, which wasn't untrue, but certainly not what he'd meant to say.

lol i was talking about green and bulba, said zelda

:<
and then soryk cried into his bowl of porridge

Despite the illness and how awful she felt, Zelda couldn't help but quirk a small smile at his admittance. She knew that Soryk could be extraordinarily standoffish and aloof, but she'd also seen the softer side of him, and despite the unknown (unknown on his part, anyway) complications between them, Zelda would be lying if she said she didn't enjoy seeing that side.

It did, of course, make her want to push his buttons. Just a little.

"Do you?"

The slightly (but not completely) amusing part was knowing when she was pushing him. It wasn't the first time it'd happened, and probably wouldn't be the last. Secretly he'd hoped it wouldn't be, anyway. Zelda pushing him meant him being encouraged to more properly examine himself as a whole and moving forward. Soryk probably could have lived trapped in his past, which left him beyond cynical and unwelcoming to most. But the idea that he wanted to at least try to change that for her...

Well. It spoke leagues to him.

"O-of course," he uncharacteristically stumbled over his words in reply. And he was less than proud of the way his cheeks pinkened, but he did what he could to ignore that in favour of better explaining himself. "That is to say, not of course, yet rather that even I can appreciate the company of others."

Would that I could stop choking on my tongue.

"I could never claim to be the grand socialite. Back in Quel'thalas, soirees and galas were the norm and while I seemed to never fail obtaining cordial invitation, attention did not appear to agree with me. Coming here to a place where no one knows me has made it comfortable. And... your... companionship as well, something I deem worth a value of heavy coin impossible to possess."

Zelda could tell that this line of questioning was making him squirm, which was more than fine with her. She'd be lying if she said she didn't enjoy it, even just a little. It almost made her forget the sorry state of her illness, if only just briefly.

Interesting, how she was essentially the captive audience, yet he was the one at her conversational mercy.

She was, of course, going to prod him further.

"How long do you plan to stay here?"

It was only a fair question, after all.

She was doing it deliberately. Zelda was too clever a woman to feign ignorance or oblivious nature and Soryk knew that very well. While he couldn't say he knew everything about her, and he wasn't in haste to do so, he felt that his logical deductions were that, precisely.

Logical.

Her question rendered from him a long pause. It wasn't an easy one to answer and truth be told, Soryk almost never thought about going back to Azeroth for good. Once in a while was fine, but letters and couriers would be better. If he was going back to visit, which was occasional, it was usually to see his family, who he felt he could have been better off without. But he didn't actually want to say any of that to her.

"As long as I can," he finally answered, realising it wasn't as difficult as he was making it out to be. "There are some very good reasons for me to stay. And for as odd as the place is, in many ways I prefer it to where I came from. Besides, there are things that need to be done here than I cannot do there."

Like courting her. If he could ever spit that out.

Of course she was doing it deliberately--and Zelda was fairly certain he realized that. It wasn't enough, however, to get her to stop. She was zeroing in on an insecurity, which meant that she had to press onward.

"So...you plan to stay, and yet you tell me this place isn't fitting for me, that I would be better suited to courtly life."

It wasn't said with any hint of being offended, in fact, there was a wry smile on her face.

She was ruining him. That was what she was doing. At least that was what he was convinced she was doing. And it wasn't like he could argue with her because to be honest, he didn't want to. Soryk had never watched himself so carefully with someone before, and he knew that—among other things—implied a plethora of sentiments that he typically wanted to keep to himself.

"To a court, you would be radiant," he explained. "If I visited a noble court on a standard routine with you, your absence would make my very life in court a far more bleak one. A court deserves its shine."

Soryk cleared his throat and he shifted just enough to cross a leg over the other, just to give himself something to do. He didn't need to say it, but he was pretty sure he got it across that if Zelda was light, he was definitely darkness and nothing was lost if he didn't visit his own noble courts he'd left behind.

She laughed--when she had been young, in the court, she'd been doted on. Dressed elegantly and told what a wonderful queen she'd make some day. When she'd grown a little older, the sheer weight of that responsibility became more and more realized. At the school, she could delay this.

Hearing Soryk say this, however, was more than satisfying. She resolved to go a bit easier on him--after one last question.

"What is it you're saying, then?"

Of all questions she could have asked him, Soryk wasn't quite expecting something so pointed and direct. True, that Zelda had never quite seemed the sort to dance around, which was something he appreciated. Atê had constantly been tugging him back and forth, never giving a straight answer on anything, and it'd irritated him plenty. And if he'd been roundabout prior to her, he certainly wasn't as their relationship progressed.

He refrained from anything transparent, like wringing his hands, or looking away. He settled for, instead, straightening out the cuffs of his doublet and underlying tunic. "Ah..."

Soryk cycled through the possibilities of his words and he finally opted for a form of truth. Perhaps it was time for him to stop being subtle or for him to stop denying his own sentiments. But putting it all into words was far more complicated.

"That... though you may be fitting more in court, your joy is more important and you ought to be where you are most comfortable and pleased. And that I..." With a great tentative nature, he reached over in hopes of taking her closest hand to hold between his. "...should wish to not only bask in your prosperity, but that I may also contribute to it. If you would allow me the privilege of doing so."

Zelda leaned over the side of the bed and puked into the trash can.

~~"Watch where you do that! You almost hit my Vera Wangs!"~~

It wasn't the worst reaction he could think of. And at least he knew she wasn't feeling well, so it wasn't like she was throwing up at the thought of him. ~~Or so he believed.~~ But it still threw him through a loop because he didn't know how to respond immediately.

So he let her throw up as long as she needed to and as she did so, he carefully scooped up her hair that was almost like vibrant spun gold, just so it wouldn't get in her way. And he decided that such a line of conversation could be pursued later. At a time when she wasn't throwing up. Because she couldn't concentrate and admittedly, any romanticism he'd held in those moments quickly diminished.

"I will find something soothing for you to take," he found himself saying, though he hardly knew if she heard him or not. "Do not strain yourself too much, my lady."

Edited 2015-01-14 19:57 (UTC)

fuck your vera wang

WELL now everything was ruined. Zelda spent a few more moments heaving into the trash can before complete and total embarrassment set in. She leaned back on her pillows and groaned, hands in front of her face.

"Soryk, I'm--so sorry, oh--"

If she could have crawled somewhere to die, she certainly would have.

"Your shoes..."

Truth... be told, Soryk was a little more than surprised to even hear an apology. She didn't know he was behind her illness, but he did. She didn't know all kinds of things about him and while she was an engima wrapped in infinite mystery herself, he really had it coming. And if it hadn't been Zelda, chances were he would have been absolutely furious.

Livid, even. He could just picture his reaction to Atê doing something of the same. And he was the one to ask for her hand. And he still just vaguely tolerated her inappropriate behaviour. Such as... throwing up. (But never of anything save too much ale.) Hardly. Zelda was a lot easier for him to handle, in retrospect.

"It—" And he didn't know what to say. So once she righted herself somewhat, he carefully reached down to unlace his boots to the best of his ability without getting his hands caught in anything that he wanted to avoid. "Not that I have ever given much faith to Divine Providence, but it is entirely possible that I deserved that."

Fully possible, he corrected himself with an inner venom.

Removing his other boot, he immediately looked around her room, "...Wash room?" Soryk asked her. "I can clean this up and get you some more water." And at some later point in time, he could clean up his boots too.

"I don't think anyone deserves to be vomited on."

It was out before she could stop herself (much like the vomit), and she wondered what that said about her current perception of him.

Zelda swallowed and nodded, still too mortified to do much. She puked on his shoes, and he was offering to get her water. "Water. Would be nice."

He wanted to argue. He really, truly, earnestly did. But as it had seemed several times in the past, Zelda was good at making him hold his tongue. And most of the time, it was because what he was trying to create with her was something so important to him (surprisingly) that he had no want to destroy it so soon. Or ever, if he was going to at least be honest with himself about it.

Soryk was quick to rise to his feet and wander back off toward her bathroom where he tried to put himself together. Sure, the vomit was an issue. Likely unforgettable, but was that really such a bad thing? He'd have to take the boots to a proper cleaner for he doubted he had such an interest in touching just such a thing. It wasn't like he didn't have some coin on him, after all.

Perhaps Zelda would be mortified about it forever, something he couldn't fault her for, though she hadn't really done anything wrong. Or again, anything he didn't feel he deserved. Things were what they were, however. No use in weeping over offered vomit.

When he returned, he extended a slightly over half full glass. "What else may I get for you?" Food. Drink. A pillow. She would know what she wanted or needed more than he would have.

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Don't eat the food.

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a not serious tag

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i was going to write you an actual real tag but no i think this is it

...... I STILL CAN'T STOP LAUGHING ABOUT THIS.

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