Terrified of losing track of time, D'hein of the Dodos returned to the Quicksand after fifteen minutes and settled into a bar-stool, where he crossed his arms very tight and stared at the bar-top feverishly trying to remember how long he had said he would give Antimony. His default was one hour, but had he given her more time? Half an hour? An entire hour? Two? Was he mad!?
The bar-tender tried to speak with him, but D'hein did not notice. He sat in silent, still panic, staring at the bar and beginning to sweat, growing more agitated as time went on. After what felt like an eternity of trying to feverishly recall the time he had stated, D'hein realized he had been lost in thought over the conundrum for a disproportionate amount of time. Struck by sudden terror that he was late, D'hein leapt to his feet, throwing his barstool back on the ground and whacking an adjacent Lalafel with his tail so hard that the poor man was thrown awkwardly into the lap of the Roegadyn he had been sharing drinks with.
D'hein checked the time with shaking hands, finding it had been half an hour. He reset his barstool and apologized to the Lalafel, but the tiny man just smiled and shrugged and settled into the lap of the unexpectedly welcoming Roegadyn. So everything, it seemed, worked out.
He ordered a drink. And set his gold-crafted watch on the bar in front of him And stared at it. He never touched his drink.
After exactly one hour and forty-five minutes (figuring he had said either an hour and a half or two hours, and figuring that in between he would either be fashionably late or charmingly early) D'hein stood from his barstool and paid off his tab as well as the Lalafel's, who had since passed out and been carried off by the Roegadyn. Good for him!
D'hein proceeded down the hallways back to Antimony's room.
***
The four walls of the inn room K'airos had so generously rented for her were both comforting to Antimony and agonizing - comforting in that they kept her hidden from people she wasn't certain she had the strength of will to face again, and agonizing as they kept her separated from K'airos, something she did not want to experience ever again. D'hein's gift loomed ominously on the table a short distance from her perch on the edge of the bed, and for a long time after he left, she simply watched it and tried not to think of all those other people, or of losing K'airos.
He had described the gift as traveling supplies, which, Antimony had to admit, sounded like things she could very much make use of. Though she'd managed to wash herself during her brief stay in Drybone, she still imagined she could smell the stink of corpses on her skin, and the journey back to Ul'dah had left her once more feeling grimy all over. The state of her dress didn't help matters, unfortunately. It occurred to her that she must look absolutely awful, and her ears flattened, tail flicking in embarrassment at what Miss Carceri, D'hein, and most of all her daughter must think of her in such a state.
Well, the least she could do was fully appreciate her former (current? future? it was all very confusing still) boss's gift.
Antimony stood with a sigh, wincing at the dull ache in her joints. The strain of travel and stress was not doing them any favors, and she didn't think she'd ever felt more like her age than in these moments. Not delaying further, she allowed her curiosity to carry her the few steps to the table and proceeded to unwrap the oblong package.
The first item she saw brought a deep flush to her cheeks and she nearly pushed the entire thing off the edge of the table in her shock. The cloth was folded, but the cut of it was unmistakable, even less when she lifted it slightly in shaky hands. The soft purple fabric ran like water across her skin, and perhaps at any other time she might have admired the dress, but not now, and especially not considering who had given it. It brought to mind another gift, come all the way from Coerthas, and she grimaced with mild guilt before setting the dress - was it supposed to be tight? It certainly looked far too small for her - to one side.
The rest of the items inside were less provocative, though their quality left Antimony feeling guilty for accepting such a thing: several finely crafted soaps in fragrances she couldn't identify, a set of grooming implements and other assorted toiletries, a few washcloths and a towel so thick and soft her fingers disappeared in its fibers, a pair of water flasks made of intricately engraved metal wrapped in impossibly supple leather, and at the bottom, a set of clothing, thankfully more acceptable than the dress she'd found first, though following pattern, they were made of fabrics far nicer than Antimony had ever seen.
"And all Dodos receive these?" she muttered to herself and then shook her head. She was well aware of the tribe's accrued wealth and status; she only hoped that using these gifts wouldn't draw the ire of any other tribe member she might happen to run into.
At that point, Antimony became aware she had not kept track of time. This realization startled her so much that a number of the toiletries were sent clattering to the floor. Time! How long had she dawdled? When had D'hein said he'd return? One hour? Two? What if he walked in through the door right that moment? And she'd done nothing!
She wasted another several minutes agonizing over her delay, then recognized said agonizing was delaying her further and sprang into action. Though this room did not come equipped with a bath (not that she would have asked K'airos to spend more money on her for such a thing), she recalled the Quicksand having a publically available washing area not far. She only needed to locate it.
A few minutes later, Antimony had bundled the towels, clothing, and soaps in her arms and was making her way down the halls with quick but cautious steps. True, D'hein had assured her that K'aijeen was not currently on the Quicksand's premises, but she did not quite trust those words, and there were of course others she did not wish to run into immediately...
***
Some time later, Antimony walked back through the halls with the towels and toiletries bundled in her arms again, but this time the towels were damp and joined by her old, mud-stained dress. She had to admit that the bath had greatly refreshed her, even if her thoughts continued to wander madly towards places of worry. She couldn't smell corpses anymore, which was comforting, and the grime that had gotten seemingly everywhere - even under her nails and between her toes - was scrubbed clean as much as she could manage. The change of clothes D'hein had provided fit her fairly well, though the pants - loose and gathered in the style of Ul'dah - were a bit too long, as were the sleeves of the wrapped shirt. At least the detailing on them was pretty, though it still felt uncomfortable to wear a stranger's clothing. Her mostly greyed hair hung wet against her neck, messy from the shower but she would deal with that once...
Antimony froze mid-step as her eyes caught sight of an unmistakable fluff of blond hair hovering just outside her room. She nearly turned around and fled right there, utterly mortified at that tia seeing her like this, but no - there was nothing to be done for it. How had she lost track of time? She'd been so certain she had at least a quarter bell until...!
Clearing her throat anxiously, Antimony's still damp ears swiveled with uncontrolled nerves as she ventured, "Excuse... me. You're, ah--you're... early!"
D'hein spun to the strange-looking Miqote, thin hair wet and nice clothes but ill-suiting her frame. It didn't really do to wander around wet like that, especially if one couldn't even bother to dress appropriately to one's own size!
Oh, no, it was Antimony. That changed everything! What was that thing she had just said? Some series of words artfully broken like the fake breaks in a stained-glass window. With a smirk, he imagined what a deliberately broken greeting like that must sound like, letting his fabricated substitute fill out his memories since he'd missed it.
And then, with a smile and a bow, he said, "And I’m sure I share those beautiful sentiments, miss Antimony." And then, leaning back, "If you had required or still require time, you need only say so. I'm in no hurry to rush you."
His response confused her enough that she was left stammering for several seconds, clutching the towels and her old clothing to her chest. Sentiments? That he was... early? Did he mean to be early? Had he thought to catch her unawares? How long had he been lurking here? What else had he done while she was bathing??
"I don't--that is, I haven't--I... just wasn't expecting you so... ah! Excuse me!" Face flushed bright red, she hurried around him to the door, "I'll just--just be a moment!"
Retreating a measure with a chuckle, D'hein held up his hands, "Take your time. I tell you what: I'll linger in the tavern and you come fetch me when you're prepared."
"Yes, yes, I'll do just--" the door opened and shut behind her in a flurry, "--that," she finished to the empty room.
With a pained sigh, Antimony trudged over to the table and began to try and put herself back into some semblance of order.
***
Stritching his arms to either side of him -- whacking the walls without noticing -- D'hein began his way back to the tavern and fixed his fingers behind him as he went. He did not bother to get a table once he had set foot in the tavern, though. He just stood and lingered. It was a terribly common place and it was far below him to actually eat the kinds of food they sold here.
***
Once she'd managed to brush out her hair and pin it up into something acceptable that didn't resemble a drake's nest - a process that took very little time, considering the decades of practice she'd had, and her own tendency toward economy of style, rather than fancy flair - Â Antimony tried to give her thoughts a chance to cool. Closing her eyes, she drew in a few, slow breaths and then set about the task of very carefully laying out the damp towels and, more carefully, folding her old clothes. She set the former on the floor next to the bed, alongside the equally dirty winter coat she'd somehow managed to keep ahold of throughout all of this chaos. She wouldn't forgive herself if she lost it, of course; Mitari's gift had been nothing if not heartfelt.
She wondered not for the first time what it might like to take K'airos with her up north. But with K'aijeen as hateful and dangerous...
Antimony forced herself to ignore the sharp ache in her chest those thoughts stirred, as well as the stinging in her nose and behind her eyes. Taking a moment to wipe her glasses with the hem of the clean shirt and, finally, adjust the new articles of clothing in a way she hoped at least looked decent, Antimony finally took her exit of the room in search of D'hein.
***
She found him fairly quickly, near the entryway into the open tavern that led from the inn halls. She approached him quietly, hoping to keep her composure more than the last time they'd interacted, and clasped her hands in front of her.
"Now, I am ready," she stated, standing slightly behind him. Her tail swished in slow arcs behind her, brushing against the loose fabric of her pants.
Watching the working-class mingle was an interesting past-time. How they managed to indulge on such paltry, ugly things, he wasn't sure. The liquor was all essentially the same, except for the quality of the ale which was completely uncoscionable, he was sure, but the food and the environment and just the stink off all the other working-class people should have made contentedness impossible.
All of which was not actually a thing he thought. Was this how the Dodo Nunhs passed their time? Staring down from their towers and lamenting the lesser beings? No, not lamenting. Heckling. Or something.
"Hello!" He finally announced several seconds after Antimony had arrived, spinning around, his tail fairly flailing behind him. Only one of his ears managed the turn to Antimony; the other got lost and ended up listening for the ceiling for some reason. "You look so much more comfortable, now! Collected, prepared. You look like an otherworldly genius descended from some ivory tower, still glistening with divine light!"
"I... what?" Her own ears twisted uncertainly at that description. Certainly he wasn't talking about her. What in all of Eorzea was he talking about? Her tail gave a firm swish and she drew a breath, "Ah, that's... not necessary. I apologize for, well, earlier. I must've lost track of... time or some sort of... well. Regardless."
Her fingers wove together as she looked past D'hein to the tavern, a small twinge of anxiety tightening her chest as she half-expected to spot K'luha or K'ile amongst the throng. Of course, if K'ile were here, he would have smelled her long ago... and perhaps left in disgust. She wouldn't blame him for such a thing. He had no obligation to her, an outsider, twice over. At least she'd thought to sent K'airos to help...
Antimony realized she'd grown quite distracted with these unhappy thoughts and shook herself, returning her focus to the blonde tia in front of her. She tilted her head slightly at him and, for the first time in days, allowed herself to acknowledge the extreme hunger that had been pestering her balance, concentration, and just general being, "You, ah, mentioned we could eat...?"
Watching Antimony passively as she seemed to sink into a comfortable shell of distraction for a few seconds, only to rise out of it suddenly, D'hein at length smirked and said, "Have you ever eaten near or around the hustings strip? Or any of those very red-and-gold interior places of the city?"
She frowned at that. "Of course not. It would be an exorbitant waste of agency resources."
Leaning a bit back, one ear standing up and his eyes flicking around as if to see if he is being spied upon, D'hein said, "It would? Really? Since when!"
Confusion softened her expression, and her ears tilted back somewhat. "Since... well, I have--I mean, had a budget, you should know! It didn't seem proper to spend it on... not that I'd ever considered such a thing."
"Budget? Really? I... Well," He crossed his arms and bit his thumb, looking conflicted. "I guess budgets are a thing we work off of. That must be more common for business dealings than I had suspected. Budgets for contractors is such a mad idea, though, I'd never thought of it! Draconian, but perhaps in a good way."
"In a... what way?" Perhaps it was her hunger getting the better of her, but Antimony found following D'hein's train of thought increasingly difficult. "Everything and everyone has a budget of some kind."
She didn't feel like arguing the point, however, so instead she just twisted her hands together and questioned, "Is that where you wish to dine, then?"
Taking a long time to pull his thoughts away from the revolutionary budgetary paradigms Antimony had invented, D'hein said with some difficulty, "Yes. Unless you have some special wish to remain here."
Green eyes flicked past him to the tavern once more, and Antimony decided then that she was indeed not ready to face any of those she'd run from just yet. She recognized this as cowardly, and the acknowledgement was not without a strong sense of guilt; however, to D'hein she just nodded. "That would be fine." A pause. "The, ah, Hustings Strip, I mean."
"Excellent! I know this place that purports to serve literally the best Ourobon in the entire world!" He spun, pacing his way towards the Quicksand's exit to head off to Ruby Road and, from there, to the Hustings strip. He fixed his hands behind him as he went, smiling upwards and speaking without reserve, "Then, maybe you don't want Ourobon? I'm sure that's a main staple of one's diet in Southern Thanalan!"
It took her several seconds to pull her thoughts together enough to follow him, and when he spoke again, they scattered just as quickly. And she had hoped to maintain order over this dinner...
Antimony flinched and looked off to one side, watching the brown stone wall pass as they walked instead of the man who'd decided to speak of uncomfortable things. "That's... well, yes, but I haven't..." She cleared her throat, trying to free it of the lump that had begun to form, and finally finished, "There's mostly fish in Limsa."
"Oh, right," D'hein said, moving his hands from behind his back and clapping it in front of him, "And an Ourobon is a kind of fish! Inferior to anything you get in Limsa." He put his hands back behind his back. "Although once you've eaten at the Bismarck, well, you'll have a hard time at similar establishments elsewhere! Heed this warning, Antimony!" He brought his hands forward and clapped them again. "Do not order the fish here in Ul'dah. You'll be disappointed."
His gesturing drew her attention from the wall, and she watched it with an almost-fascination at how theatrical they were. "I will keep that in mind," she acknowledged. At this point her stomach made a small, hollow sound and she ducked her head briefly before adding in a hurried tone to cover the embarrassment, "I doubt they have the true staple food, however."
"Ah, but what is truth?" Began D'hein, then shook his head. "Forget I said that." Stupid change of topic! He needed to pay more attention to what he was saying. His tail was churning like a piston behind him as he walked onward, trying to get his brain to work its way back to... food, they had been discussing? Regional food.
He cleared his throat, "Ul'dah itself isn't known for anything of any interest, unfortunately. Unless you like spices. Lots and lots of spices!"
"I'm certain it's all delicious," she replied neutrally and couldn't help but brush against a memory - faded in its age - of a rare venture of trade with the outside world. Spices were one of the treasures their huntresses had returned with, and their flavors had excited the children for weeks. Antimony's ears drooped. She should not think of such things, not when she no longer had right to them.
Think of the present.
The rough stone streets had given way to more delicately carved paths, and many of the walls they passed were now softened with richly colored tapestries. Even the lighting in these inner paths of Ul'dah shifted, gaining a warmer hue, and though she could still catch the pervading scents of sweat and dirt and sickness that covered the city like a shroud, they were more distant here. "Where precisely is this, ah, place...?"
The Dodo stopped in his tracks as the surprised by the question. He looked up, then around him, then down at Antimony wordlessly, his thoughts churning as though through some kind of clanking machine. D'hein blinked.
Antimony frowned, trying to stifle a niggling suspicion; it wouldn't do to make assumptions so frequently. Even if he did seem a bit... "... You do know where we are going, yes?"
D'hein went slightly wide-eyed. Was Antimony trying to test him? Then he must do his very best to pass! Taking a moment to ponder, only a moment so that it did not become awkward, "To... the..." Oh, food!
"It is a magnificent place!" D'hein declared, spinning to walk forward again and turning them up a flight of stairs, "You will marvel at how humble it can be while still evoking such incredible regality! Quite like myself, actually. Or yourself, now that I think about it!"
There was no real way to avoid the heat in her cheeks at that. "I am not... I wouldn't call myself regal in any..." Her ears shook vigorously at the thought. These compliments he seemed to be constantly armed with were really going to be the end of her.
The stairs were a bit more difficult than they should have been, perhaps credit to her scant rest of late, but she watched his ears to distract herself. Always mobile, she half-wondered if they were even a part of his head. It would... well, that was a silly thought.
"Oh, I would call you regal by most definitions," D'hein said with a laugh, "And I'm an expert on the definitions of that word. Here!" D'hein cut off half-way up the stairs into a relatively thin hallway, dashing into it as though diving for cover. In truth, he almost hadn't noticed it, so acted quickly when he did.
The suddenness of his action caught Antimony off-guard and she half-stumbled to keep up with him before realizing he probably wouldn't go running off without her. So she took a moment to catch her balance and her orientation before also turning down the hall he'd dove into, looking up as she did so. The ceiling vaulted high above them, making the narrow hallway seem strangely confining, or perhaps just very far below ground. Either way, it was a bit claustrophobic, and Antimony quickly returned her gaze forward to D'hein.
"I'll admit I'm a bit relieved," she said as she followed him. "Food has not been a high priority for... ah! Not that I--I don't intend to rush or... it's not as though I accepted this invitation only to take advantage of you, well, your.. ngh."
D'hein paused, staring up at the high vaulted ceiling, where it was eerily consumed by shadows. The eccentricity of the hall was charming to him, like a friend with a dark sense of humor. D'hein dropped his gaze to Antimony, and inclined his head in a tiny faux bow, "Antimony, there's an honor in having one's hospitality take advantage of. If you accepted for only that reason, I would be delighted." And then he was marching happily down the hallway again.
"Oh. That's--ah... alright." She followed him in silence for several moments. The strange, sideways flattery kept throwing her off, and she wasn't entirely sure what else to say to such things. She certainly didn't understand where they came from.
"Airos," she spoke suddenly, slowing her steps briefly as she pictured her middle daughter before hurrying back alongside him and adding in a quieter tone, "She... looks well."
"Oh, she's very well! Charming and beautiful beyond the right of any flower or star," D'hein glanced back at Antimony as he walked, "And if you point it out her face glows red as a sunset. Industrious. If I had half the virtues she did I'd own all of Ul'dah by now."
He took another sudden, sideways turn, through an even darker entry than the previous one. This took him not into a hallway, though, but instead into a modest and low-ceiling'ed room. More of a den than a tavern, it had a small number of long, maple tables on a dark clay floor, the walls tiles a deep rust red. The firelight was a soft orange, kept dim and calm.
The shadows were deep, but they were warmly so. The handful of patrons, well short of a dozen, spoke in low, amicable tones. They were all people who knew how to speak softly, calmly, and their words carried well in this silent place so far from the roads.
Further talk of her daughter - such as that she wouldn't stand for him to hold any designs on her K'airos - stilled in Antimony's throat as they entered this new room, the unexpected shift in decor and mood pausing her steps a moment. There was a certain understated but very clear wealth to the room that left Antimony feeling out of place; she only hoped it didn't show too much in her face.
Well, she certainly would not be seeing K'ile or K'luha here, at the very least.
"I assume this is... it?" Her hands fidgeted with the sleeves of her borrowed shirt. "It's certainly, ah, cozy."
"Pause for a moment," D'hein said, spinning on Antimony and holding up his hands. "Close your eyes and imagine a sunset."
"I... what?" She blinked rapidly behind her glasses at his hands, then up as though she could see the sky - which, of course, she could not - and then back to D'hein. "Whatever for...?"
Frowning for a moment, D'hein said patiently, "The decor of the place makes no sense unless you play along."
Glancing around the room at the other patrons, most of whom seemed content ignoring her and D'hein to her relief, Antimony finally sighed in acquiescence. "Very well. If you insist..."
Standing very straight, legs and arms together, Antimony closed her eyes and tried to picture a sunset. At first, she thought of oranges and yellows over broad spans of rolling water, the tones softened by evening mist rolling in, but such a scene didn't seem appropriate for the setting. And she couldn't help... the slow waves became rolling dunes, and the mist pulled back to a clear sky, the sun blazing with a mighty fury low on the horizon. Her chest ached.
"Alright, now," D'hein lifted his hands to gesture as he spoke, watching Antimony's features, "Fix the sunset in your mind. The place and time don't matter. But the light, the color, the warmth of the day. And then let the sun set beyond the horizon. Just that instant after the sunset, where everything is blue and purple except the lingering red in the sky. And the scent of the day is still there, the heat of it before the cool comes, and everything is dark and shadowed. Kind shadows that leave beautiful lines on everyone's faces."
Her ears tilted at the request, confused at the purpose that remained obscured behind it. "Are you certain this is necessary," she muttered, but did her best to play along. Drawing a deep breath, Antimony watched Azeyma's eye dip and fade, and as she did this, she wondered how many sunsets she had missed with her daughters. She swallowed at the thought and tried to focus on the cooling sand, the cool shadows that were not yet sharpened by moonlight.
Letting a truncated sigh slip at Antimony's question, D'hein pushed forward anyway, "Just fix that time and setting in your head. Cool, warm, comfortable, when the light is easiest and the air comfortable, and the shadows make everyone appear deep, mysterious, fascinating." He dropped his hands, "And that's it. Minutes After Sunset. That's what this place is called."
She was silent for a moment, eyes still closed, and gave an honest effort to indulge in the feelings D'hein sought to engender. They were tempered, however, by the familiarity of the vision she'd called up, and after a time she sighed, her tail drooping to hang low behind her. "It's quite lovely," she admitted, which was true despite those other things. The small establishment had succeeded in what it had clearly set out to do. "Though I tend to prefer night once it's fully set in and the stars are clearly visible. Better to chart constellations that way."
She frowned with her eyes still closed, not sure why she'd volunteered that information.
"If we could see the stars from in here, I might agree. Except that nights can be so cold, and I'm a man who prefers to stay warm." He reached out and briefly brushed her shouler with one of his gloved hands, "You can open your eyes now. I'll find us a seat." He turned to the soft lamplight and deep shadows of the place, finding that he had his pick of every seat. He went for one that looked comfortable, near a wall, away from people.
She'd never minded the cold, not when she'd had her charcoal and the few, precious sheets of hide she'd managed to beg off the huntresses, bits of worm skin too worn thin or too stiff to be used for other purposes. The weight of the memories D'hein had unknowingly stirred nearly staggered her, and Antimony opened her eyes swiftly at his notice, looking around the room once more to try and dispel them.
She followed him to the corner he'd chosen quietly, looked over the low, round table and its rather comfortable looking chairs, and settled into one with no small amount of appreciation. She didn't speak immediately, torn between wanting to bring K'airos up again or venture for something more neutral.
Before beginning any conversation, D'hein turned to wave over towards the long, narrow bar that huddled patronless against the wall. He received a nod from the bartender, and then D'hein turned back to Antimony and said, "A place like this doesn't really have a static menu. Their selection is smell and varies greatly, so I usually just forego picking something out and let the kitchen do so for me. Do you have any reservations or allergies?"
"Uhm," her brow furrowed at the question, though it was straightforward enough. "I don't... think so, no." Green eyes shifted towards the bar D'hein had made some wordless communication towards, wondering what had been exchanged, and then back to the miqo'te before her. "Do you?"
"No," D'hein said. "I don't think so. Do you drink?"
Oh, that question. She recalled unhappily those unfortunate two evenings with Captain Lamandu, tried to remember if she'd managed to get a taste of whatever he had ordered for her. The memory of Ulanan growing louder and more overtly scandalizing was more prominent in her mind, however, and she fidgeted a bit before admitting, "I haven't. Though... I'm not sure I'd be averse."
"It's more of an after-dinner thing for me," D'hein said, open palms on the table between them, "But different people do so differently. If there's anything that you're in the habit of or that you desire which doesn't rise to the top of my head, please just say so and let me take care of it. I don't want you to hesitate at all."
Glancing around the warmly shadowed room, Antimony shook her head slightly, ears shifting at the various levels of conversation. "I'm sure none of my habits are... well, necessary for this kind of place."
"All that's necessary is whatever makes one comfortable and relaxed. Case and point." D'hein withdrew his hands as two large glasses of chilled milk were placed on the table, one near him and one near Antimony. "I myself am simple. All I wanted after two months away on business was a cup of milk, so of course that witch of an Elezen pillaged my poor, helpless milk bar while I was gone. Fresh stock is difficult to come by in the desert."
"Away? What were you--ah, not that it's... any of my business." She blinked at the glass, watched the condensation settle in a ring on the coaster it had been placed upon. Her tail shook. "I will be quite alright with whatever they have to offer," she ventured to reassure, and certainly this was true. She hadn't eaten much more than a few fruits the past few days; even sun-rotten worm meat would seem appetizing at this point, she was so far beyond being picky.
"Alright, then. I'll stop worrying." D'hein said, holding his glass of milk in both hands immediately in front of him and staring at it fondly for number of seconds before indulging in a long, slow sip.
"Thank you." Not an entirely appropriate response, but it was the best she could do. She watched D'hein sip from his milk for a moment, then glanced to her own, recalling the last time she'd had milk. Such a disastrous interview... though apparently not too disastrous. Her hands moved grip it, letting the condensation sink into her palms for a moment, before she lifted it to her lips for a small sip. It wasn't food yet, but it was something, and she couldn't resist another, and then a third.
D'hein smirked over his own cup of milk to watch Antimony drinking hers.
Catching D'hein's look, Antimony stilled and then cleared her throat, flicking her eyes away briefly and setting her glass down. "Ah, excuse me. Overcome with... well." Her ears twitched in discomfort.
"I'm glad you like it." D'hein said, setting down his own glass and giving Antimony a full smile, "You'd be surprised some of the looks I get!"
His words didn't quite follow, and she furrowed her brow at him. "For... what?"
He tilted his head, "For drinking so much milk. People think it's strange, but I'm unsure why. It's good for a person. I'm always telling everyone that they should be sure to drink plenty of milk!"
Her ears followed the tilt of his head. "Surely it's not so vital. I lived without it for decades, after all."
"It is absolutely vital!" D'hein said, strongly, "That you lived without it is tragic, but it must be an artifact of your cleverness, a testament to mankind's will to live, that you somehow managed to substitute its presence in your diet. Such miraculous alchemy is beyond my comprehension, but where I walk there shall never be need of it. From now on, you will have just as much milk to drink as I've always provided my own family." He punctuated this speech by downing some milk.
"That's... very kind of you," Antimony mumbled, looking bewildered by the passion driving his words. Still, it was... She could at least appreciate the sentiment behind it. Her eyes dropped to her glass, and she couldn't help the sad tone to her voice when she said, "As you've done with Aijeen and Airos?"
"Precisely," D'hein said, leaning back in his chair and swirling his milk like a glass of wine. "Although D'aijeen is as stubborn about it as anyone and got it in her head that it's bad for K'airos as well."
She looked up worriedly at that. "She's got ahold of--" Her words cut off suddenly though, as she finally caught on to something she had perhaps heard numerous times now but had refused to acknowledge. "... She truly changed her name?" She said a bit quieter and then looked down. "She hates me that much."
"Eeeh," D'hein sat his milk down and thrummed his fingertips against the glass, creating a rhythmic plunking sound and rippling the surface fo the cream. "She became a Dodo so she could abuse our resources. She did keep her given name, which I think counts for more. And I would say that she does not have any straightforward emotions about anything, so..." He bit down on his cheek to silence himself.
"Her words in that corpse yard were very straightforward," Antimony muttered lowly, ears laying back. She couldn't help that despair, that there was nothing she could do to change her youngest daughter's mind. She'd tried for years. She'd done everything she could to protect her, and in the end it had meant nothing. And that she now threatened to take K'airos from her... "Please," she spoke suddenly, giving D'hein and earnest look, "Tell me how they've lived. What you've... done."
The Dodo watched Antimony's features, and couldn't help but to let his own emotions be moved downward by them. Her frown deepened his own. The softness of her eyes took the edge of happiness from his own. But he watched her stubbornly, even as a server arrived to decorate their table with a number of fresh dishes: breads, vegetables, a medley of dark meats from desert animals.
Giving neither the food nor the server a moment's consideration, he said, "Your daughters are doing well. I think you would be proud of them. Both of them."
"I want to believe you," she ducked her head, eyes dropping to the food placed before them and finding her appetite gone despite the emptiness in her gut. "But Aijeen, I don't... know her. I'm not sure she'll ever... allow me to." And there it was. She'd thought enough time had passed that perhaps it had grown dull, or at least distant like the grief for other lost family, but that emptiness she'd felt when she'd awoken one morning to find her youngest daughter gone, lost to the dunes... She turned her head away sharply, blinked hard.
"I'm sorry," she choked out. "This isn't... the best time for these kinds of words, I don't think. You shouldn't have to--that is, I shouldn't be... ah, I will try to just enjoy the food."
"Here," D'hein spoke with a patient smile, setting a piece of meat on a plate, placing some vegetables with it. "See if you can tell me by taste what is what. And how good a job the culinarian did." He pushed the plate towards Antimony.
Pulling in a few, unsteady breaths, Antimony turned back to the table and tried to focus on D'hein's words, the varied smells of food. "Ah, I'm... not nearly so skilled as to presume to judge an esteemed culinarian," she mumbled but took up the utensils by the plate anyway. Something familiar settled in the scents wafting up from the plate, something she recognized almost immediately, "Sun drake." This quiet announcement was followed with a small bite, and sure enough, that's what it was. Some of the flavor was different, heftier than she was used to, likely because most meat she'd ever eaten had first been dried and cured. Unmistakable, however. Antimony frowned; it seemed the past was not about to let her go.
"Ah, I do love Sun Drake," D'hein said, taking a plate and snagging some of the meat for himself. "Something about eating a predator is just so... Does justice have a taste? If it did, it would be Sun Drake."
Momentarily distracted from her previous nadir or emotion by D'hein's challenge and unusual comment, Antimony found herself struck by an almost desperate urge to... well, to eat. For this reason, her only response was a slight nod as she continued with bites of the seared drake flesh. The culinarian who had prepared it had dusted it with a crust of seasonings that sharpened the gamey taste of the meat.
"I'll admit, I'd not realized it could be quite so... well, not stringy," she admitted after a moment, before going back to finally (finally!) filling her stomach.
"An Ul'dahn culinarian can shock you with their ability change the shape and form of a thing. They have to. Not as much to work with as in Limsa Lominsa. Well," he rolled his eyes while absently piling random vegetables on his plate, "Unless they want to import, but usually that is restricted to Syndicate kitchens."
Noticing his partaking of vegetables drew Antimony's attention to those on her own plate she had been erstwhile neglecting. It was strange what hunger could do to one, for suddenly those vegetables - green, stalky things and others that looked like roots of some kind - seemed the most delectable items she'd ever laid eyes upon. She only barely restrained herself from all but diving into them. Her tail twitched at the very end as she ate, flicking against the side of her chair in a rapid rhythm.
Still having not begun on his own food, D'hein set his prepared plate in front of himself and once again enjoyed watching Antimony for a moment. "Don't eat too fast or you'll make yourself sick," he cautioned, "And remember to drink your milk," he hefted his own glass in illustration.
A flinch knocked her fork against the edge of the plate, the sound uncomfortably loud to Antimony compared to the hushed tones of the rest of the dining area. She almost looked around, half expecting the other patrons to be staring agog at her mad rush to consume the food placed in front of her, but her own chagrin kept her frozen staring forward and down. Very deliberately, she slowed her pace and stammered, "Very sorry, I--well, it's just that I haven't had... I mean, there was the apple Megiddo gave me... and that pear of Airos's, and--well, Miss Aeriyn's apple as well and... that's.. mmm--" She trailed off, ducking her head slightly to chew on a bite of root vegetable.
"There's nothing to apologize for. Unless you make yourself sick, in which case I'll make you apologize for ignoring my warnings." The Dodo pulled his plate over and began to push his vegetables around in the juices from his meat. Without looking, he took a serving of sauce and poured it over the mix as well, fairly ruining the artful presentation of the food he'd been given.
Some of the edge had been taken off her hunger by then anyway, so Antimony found it easier to keep her eating at a slower pace; however, this also resulted in more periods of awkward - at least to her - silence where she neither ate nor spoke. Her knee bounced anxiously under the table until she set one hand one it to still the limb, but then her tail picked up the slack, flicking back and forth along the side of the chair.
In this silence, more nagging thoughts presented themselves, and against her better judgment, she ventured another question regarding her daughters: "Ahm," she coughed to clear her throat and then continued, "Aijeen, has she... She was never very satisfied with my... well, has she continued, ah, studying? Under your care?" The last few words were difficult to say, acknowledging D'hein's role in her daughter's life, but she thought she managed them without too much dubiousness or jealousy. She hoped so, at least.
"Maybe?" D'hein said, taking a moment to chewy on a stringy, tough vegetable as he thought, green eyes cast towards some candles a few tables away. After he swallowed, he said, "Under my care, not so much. I paid for her to study Conjury in Gridania for a couple of years, and after she decided she was done with that, Thaumaturgy here in Ul'dah. I think she's studying Alchemy now?"
Green eyes widened slightly at the mention of thaumaturgy, recalling the Ul'dahn guild's proximity to the Ossuary as well as K'aijeen's proximity to the death all over Drybone. The thought left her feeling ill and she set down her fork carefully. A memory tugged at one corner of her mind, of an incomprehensible beast of bone and sinew and... "Vultures," she mumbled faintly and then shook herself while her hands shook in turn. "Does she... do you know if she sti--ah, if she studies the... dead?"
Pausing as he cut through a piece of meat, and then giving it a distasteful look as though it had transformed into something ugly, D'hein frowned up at Antimony and said, "That's an odd way to say it. If you mean Thaumaturgy, there's more to it than simply death, and I don't think she is still studying it."
"No," Antimony shook her head slightly, ears shivering before setting back against her head. Her tone dropped, "I mean the dead."
"... Like, history?"
The creases around her eyes deepened with an anxious, worried look. "No. The... dea—corpses. She used to..."
"I don't know anything about that," D'hein said, rather quickly, and forced himself to return to cutting the piece of meat on his plate. "Conjury and Thaumaturgy each deal with death in their own ways and times, but as far as I can tell, that's the extent of it. And I'm told she helps in Drybone sometimes, but Thaumaturgy has its uses there and they do need lots of help."
Her meal had become utterly unappetizing somehow, and she blinked down at his with a heavy look. "Before she--" Antimony winced, forced herself to pick up her fork and knife, but she couldn't manage to do anything with the utensils. "--left, she would... take them apart. Bodies. Of... hunted prey. I thought it was just, ah, harmless curiosity at first but..." Antimony swallowed dryly.
"I..." D'hein began, his voice falling away as he stared at Antimony, struggling for words, "I am not aware of such a hobby myself. There are so many good things that D'aijeen does. Should we not discuss those? She takes excellent care of K'airos, for instance."
Her hands tightened about her fork and knife, her features following suit. "It--it's just that I worry... if she still... the night before she--left, she summoned a /beast/, a demon!" Antimony flinched then, ducking her head as her voice lifted and cracked, chancing a nervous look to one side, but she couldn't tell if she'd drawn attention from any other patrons. "If she's putting K'airos in danger, or herself," she managed after a moment, quieter, in fact barely above a whisper. "I... worry."
His hands motionless around his silverware, D'hein delayed a great while with his eyes fixed on Antimony, before finally saying, "I've seen no indication of that she's putting anyone in danger. She's a bit argumentative, sure, but that's... all. Pretty much."
The set of her mouth and brow spoke of how little his words did to convince her that her daughter had turned away from the dark practices she'd glimpsed that horrible night. She wanted to press him further; if he were truly taking care of her, surely he'd have spent enough time around her to notice? She couldn't fathom K'aijeen ceasing action on the very thing that had caused her to leave the tribe in the first place. Unless... it had been something else that had driven her away. Someone else
Antimony's ears drooped low to the sides of her head, and she forced a bite of the drake steak though it now tasted like little more than parchment to her distracted mind. "If you... are certain," she finally said and then fell into a sad, brooding silence.
"I think you should ask K'airos about that," D'hein said, taking a vegetable, a piece of meat, another vegetable on his fork. "If anybody knows D'aijeen better than anyone else, it's her. They've been firmly attached to one another ever since D'aijeen brought K'airos to us."
Antimony sighed, "I am not surprised. They... were always close." She glanced away again, then toward D'hein but found she couldn't quite look him in the eyes. Instead she settled for the collar of his shirt, a neutral point. Her tail twitched and she muttered a bit despairingly, "I am sorry. I must be horrible at dinner conversation."
"That just means you need practice!" D'hein proclaimed, finding a happy tone again. He let his head lean down to try and catch her eyes with his own, "Or lessons. One thing I am greatly skilled at teaching is etiquette and conversation! I'm sure you'd take to lessons with an exceptional talent. You do seem talented at all things."
"What? That--ah, that isn't--" The compliment caught her off guard - yet again, he seemed to be making a pattern of it and she still couldn't catch on, apparently. She stammered for a moment, flicking her eyes up to his and then down to one side. "Lessons. It's--it's not as though I'm some un--uncivilized savage!"
Perhaps not an entirely fair retort, considering the spirit in which the offer had been made, but his words recalled the difficulty she'd had blending with Limsa Lominsa's society in those first few years following the nightmare of the Calamity. Antimony felt a heat in her face.
"No, Antimony," D'hein gesture to himself, "I am the savage, for if I were a more honest and smooth man, better trusted and reputed, I could have reunited you with your daughters with so little effort. And Ul'dah is uncivilized, or else we would not wish to hide from it in such a place as this."
"Well." She wanted to cross her arms, but she still held her utensils and her hands seemed unwilling to release them. Instead her lips pursed and she leaned slightly back from the table, actions meant to buoy herself in the face of uncomfortable embarrassment. "You certainly could have--if you hadn't been so... invasive about it!" Ears swiveling, Antimony furrowed her brow and pulled her tail close to one leg.
"Precisely. I was such a beast about it. An accident!" D'hein gestured with his fork, "An accident caused by a lack of information, but also a lack of respect for your incredible delicateness. Both genius and incredible beauties are reputed for demanding cautious interaction and a gentle touch. I should have shown much greater care for you, who are both those things, and a mother besides."
Bowing his head, D'hein said mournfully, "Rare was she, like the shadow cast in a lonely heart by a lovely song, and my words so hastily spoken. IN my eagerness to place the rose in her hair, I left the thorns upon its stem, and she bled so tragically! Forgiveness for such a thing is a flower as well," he lifted his face again, "Perhaps one I can never grow."
Silence greeted D'hein's words for an elongated minute. She felt as though he'd spun her round and then set her loose to wander dizzily through the restaurant, though she remained seated at the table. After a time, she opened her mouth to try for a reply, but found nothing that could suit the nature of his declaration. Incredible delicateness? A rose? What in all of Eorzea was he intending with such words?
That wasn't to say she couldn't glean his meaning, but his manner of speech... well. It certainly made the only reply she could come up with feel all too inadequate, "It is... alright." She sighed slightly, glanced towards him. "As I said to Airos, I'm... just happy to have her back."
Stabbing a leafy vegetable dripping in some kind of brown juice, D'hein said, "Forgiveness is a sweet-smelling flower. So sad that it bloom only in misunderstanding, but it is so brilliant as to chase away all lingering unpleasantness."
"Ah, that isn't... I'm sorry?" She felt as though she'd missed something, though she was also reasonably certain she'd understood his flowery language. Did all Ul'dahns speak in this way? No, she'd heard plenty by now during her stay. This seemed rather uniquely D'hein, for whatever it was worth.
She found her fingers fidgeting with her fork then as she sought for something to change the subject to.
"No reason to continue apologizing," D'hein said, seeming to remember he had food to eat and returning to it.
Had she been apologizing? Antimony really couldn't be sure anymore. Instead, she welcomed his distraction with food as an opportunity to try and re-center herself - and perhaps find her appetite again. She did not volunteer another topic of conversation; the last few times she had, it had not exactly turned out well.
After eating for a bit -- something he hadn't actually gotten around to doing yet -- D'hein paused and ventured, "Iiiiiincidentally, I haven't seen Ulanan around you. Has she finally gone off and began some grand adventure of her own?"
Guilt chased her thoughts at the mention of her lalafell friend. "No, I don't--well, that is, the last time I saw her was--I'd left for.. ah..." She sighed after a moment and then just shrugged, looking regretful. "I don't know. I asked her to, ah, check in on someone but after that..."
"Ah, well. I should like to talk to her. Oh, I have a question," D'hein leaned forward and smiled like a mischievous voidsent, "How did you eventually 'stumble' across K'airos, anyway?"
"I didn't stumble!" Antimony protested automatically and then flushed, ducking her head for a second before adding in a calmer, if reluctant tone, "Ulanan had, ah, arranged an escort. To... well, it doesn't matter where."
"So it was Ulanan's doing after all," D'hein leaned back, nodding to himself, "So I had guess. My plan would have had you discovering K'airos much sooner, but obviously it ran afoul. I'm glad Ulanan decided to help it along."
"Yes, yes, and I wish you two hadn't conspired so...!" She let out a rough breath through her nose, closed her eyes, and then after a moment in a calmer tone that seemed to shrink as her words went on, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bring that... up... again."
D'hein held one hand up and across the table, fingers poised as if holding a slender object and offering it to Antimony, "Do you want that flower of forgiveness back?"
Antimony frowned sharply, but the expression was tempered by the chagrined set of her ears. "I wouldn't take back something like that."
"That statement is just as good as a renewed apology," D'hein said, placing the imaginary flower upon his breast and fixing it there with some kind of invisible pin. "Thank you. I think its color goes quite well with the rest of my outfit."
She couldn't tell if she were being made a fool or if his elaborate phrases were genuine. The possibility of the former kept an uncomfortable warmth to her face and an anxious twitter in her tail. Once again there didn't seem to be anything worthy of use in a retort - none that she could think of, at any rate. Antimony, the uncivilized savage, it seemed.
Poking at what remained of her meal, Antimony chose silence again.
Returning to his meal again, he said, "Make sure you drink your milk! Perhaps if you set an example K'airos will take after it."
"She isn't here to observe the example," Antimony pointed out, then winced and took the glass in hand as though in apology.
"True, but habits do rub off in the long-term. Or so I've observed."
"Only if the other is truly receptive to the habits," Antimony found herself bemoaning rather pathetically. "How many times I tried to get Aijeen to... ah." She fell suddenly quiet and averted her eyes once more. Could she not go ten minutes without bumbling back onto that cursed topic?
"I understand your reluctance to discuss Aijeen," D'hein stated, somberly, "It seems there is some great regret between the two of you. And have no doubt that it is mutual; I've observed that much at least."
Perhaps regret was one way to describe it, yes, though... "I'm not certain what I would regret," she replied lowly. "I... tried everything I could to reach her. But every time, I'm the--the crone. The stupid one." She let out a faint sigh. "Holding her back. From summoning demons? I--I don't understand it."
"I'm not sure she thinks through hurtful things before she says them."
"She thought them through plenty, if their frequency was anything to judge by," she replied morosely.
"I don't believe it is," D'hein answered, his grin a static thing, his tone serious. "It's not something we can see more than one angle on -- she makes sure if that -- but there is more than one angle on it. There is with everything."
"Mm," was all the response Antimony could muster to that. She dropped her gaze to her plate - food mostly consumed by now - and tried to think of happier promises K'airos had given her.
"I envy K'airos the adoration she receives from Aijeen. As long as that remains strong, though, I'm sure the girls will do fine."
"And--if Aijeen sees fit to--to take her from me? She's already tried...!"
Pushing his plate aside and poking at some food on one of the serving platters, D'hein states, "K'airos provides for Aijeen more than I do these days. I doubt Aijeen could force K'airos to go anywhere she didn't want to. And besides, K'airos is a Brass Blade. That job comes with responsibility. She really /can't/ go anywhere."
Antimony wavered for several moments between further despair and acceptance she very much wanted. Finally with a sigh, her posture opened up just slightly. "You... are right. She--I must believe she's far too responsible to do anything... anything rash like... that."
Smiling a bit wider, D'hein says, "K'airos makes a good city Miqo'te. She keeps track of her money and sets goals."
She looked up to D'hein at that, one side of her mouth shifting in a very faint smile. "I'm--I'm glad. I'm sure it was... well, it's not all that different from... ah. She gives me hope."
"I'm sure she'll give you more the more you talk to her. She's very good for that. She may even give you hope for Aijeen, if you ask her for it."
She had to wonder at that, and guiltily she recalled a conversation under a tree in a Thanalan downpour with an old Duskwight. But no, she couldn't give up on her daughters so quickly. "Perhaps. We'll see."
"That's the most optimistic I've heard you all night!" D'hein said, leaning forward on his elbows, "Are you the type to partake of dessert? You'd be surprised the cornucopia of baked sweets that one can prepare with access to good milk. And most of it goes well /with/ milk as well!" One of his ears bounced. The other turned about.
"I..." She watched the uneven turning of his ears and then his face before letting out a small breath. "I think I'm getting rather tired, truth be told."
"That's probably because you ate so much," D'hein said. "If you leave now you'll be wide awake by the time you get back to your room. A bit of a dessert will leave you ready for sleep!"
How could one protest that? Probably easily, but Antimony couldn't bring herself to regardless. Instead she just nodded once. "... Alright. I suppose it can't hurt to learn what, ah, might be in that cornucopia."
"Excellent!" D'hein said, one ear rotating to broadcast the turn of his head which came a moment later, point his gaze to the bar. His other ear never quite caught up. His tail swung around beneath the table, whacking the legs loudly, and probably whacking Antimony's legs as well. "We'll just see what they have baked up today." He waved.
Antimony ignored the wayward whacking of his tail for the moment and did her best, once more, to stay in the present. A good desert might indeed help.
The bar-tender tried to speak with him, but D'hein did not notice. He sat in silent, still panic, staring at the bar and beginning to sweat, growing more agitated as time went on. After what felt like an eternity of trying to feverishly recall the time he had stated, D'hein realized he had been lost in thought over the conundrum for a disproportionate amount of time. Struck by sudden terror that he was late, D'hein leapt to his feet, throwing his barstool back on the ground and whacking an adjacent Lalafel with his tail so hard that the poor man was thrown awkwardly into the lap of the Roegadyn he had been sharing drinks with.
D'hein checked the time with shaking hands, finding it had been half an hour. He reset his barstool and apologized to the Lalafel, but the tiny man just smiled and shrugged and settled into the lap of the unexpectedly welcoming Roegadyn. So everything, it seemed, worked out.
He ordered a drink. And set his gold-crafted watch on the bar in front of him And stared at it. He never touched his drink.
After exactly one hour and forty-five minutes (figuring he had said either an hour and a half or two hours, and figuring that in between he would either be fashionably late or charmingly early) D'hein stood from his barstool and paid off his tab as well as the Lalafel's, who had since passed out and been carried off by the Roegadyn. Good for him!
D'hein proceeded down the hallways back to Antimony's room.
***
The four walls of the inn room K'airos had so generously rented for her were both comforting to Antimony and agonizing - comforting in that they kept her hidden from people she wasn't certain she had the strength of will to face again, and agonizing as they kept her separated from K'airos, something she did not want to experience ever again. D'hein's gift loomed ominously on the table a short distance from her perch on the edge of the bed, and for a long time after he left, she simply watched it and tried not to think of all those other people, or of losing K'airos.
He had described the gift as traveling supplies, which, Antimony had to admit, sounded like things she could very much make use of. Though she'd managed to wash herself during her brief stay in Drybone, she still imagined she could smell the stink of corpses on her skin, and the journey back to Ul'dah had left her once more feeling grimy all over. The state of her dress didn't help matters, unfortunately. It occurred to her that she must look absolutely awful, and her ears flattened, tail flicking in embarrassment at what Miss Carceri, D'hein, and most of all her daughter must think of her in such a state.
Well, the least she could do was fully appreciate her former (current? future? it was all very confusing still) boss's gift.
Antimony stood with a sigh, wincing at the dull ache in her joints. The strain of travel and stress was not doing them any favors, and she didn't think she'd ever felt more like her age than in these moments. Not delaying further, she allowed her curiosity to carry her the few steps to the table and proceeded to unwrap the oblong package.
The first item she saw brought a deep flush to her cheeks and she nearly pushed the entire thing off the edge of the table in her shock. The cloth was folded, but the cut of it was unmistakable, even less when she lifted it slightly in shaky hands. The soft purple fabric ran like water across her skin, and perhaps at any other time she might have admired the dress, but not now, and especially not considering who had given it. It brought to mind another gift, come all the way from Coerthas, and she grimaced with mild guilt before setting the dress - was it supposed to be tight? It certainly looked far too small for her - to one side.
The rest of the items inside were less provocative, though their quality left Antimony feeling guilty for accepting such a thing: several finely crafted soaps in fragrances she couldn't identify, a set of grooming implements and other assorted toiletries, a few washcloths and a towel so thick and soft her fingers disappeared in its fibers, a pair of water flasks made of intricately engraved metal wrapped in impossibly supple leather, and at the bottom, a set of clothing, thankfully more acceptable than the dress she'd found first, though following pattern, they were made of fabrics far nicer than Antimony had ever seen.
"And all Dodos receive these?" she muttered to herself and then shook her head. She was well aware of the tribe's accrued wealth and status; she only hoped that using these gifts wouldn't draw the ire of any other tribe member she might happen to run into.
At that point, Antimony became aware she had not kept track of time. This realization startled her so much that a number of the toiletries were sent clattering to the floor. Time! How long had she dawdled? When had D'hein said he'd return? One hour? Two? What if he walked in through the door right that moment? And she'd done nothing!
She wasted another several minutes agonizing over her delay, then recognized said agonizing was delaying her further and sprang into action. Though this room did not come equipped with a bath (not that she would have asked K'airos to spend more money on her for such a thing), she recalled the Quicksand having a publically available washing area not far. She only needed to locate it.
A few minutes later, Antimony had bundled the towels, clothing, and soaps in her arms and was making her way down the halls with quick but cautious steps. True, D'hein had assured her that K'aijeen was not currently on the Quicksand's premises, but she did not quite trust those words, and there were of course others she did not wish to run into immediately...
***
Some time later, Antimony walked back through the halls with the towels and toiletries bundled in her arms again, but this time the towels were damp and joined by her old, mud-stained dress. She had to admit that the bath had greatly refreshed her, even if her thoughts continued to wander madly towards places of worry. She couldn't smell corpses anymore, which was comforting, and the grime that had gotten seemingly everywhere - even under her nails and between her toes - was scrubbed clean as much as she could manage. The change of clothes D'hein had provided fit her fairly well, though the pants - loose and gathered in the style of Ul'dah - were a bit too long, as were the sleeves of the wrapped shirt. At least the detailing on them was pretty, though it still felt uncomfortable to wear a stranger's clothing. Her mostly greyed hair hung wet against her neck, messy from the shower but she would deal with that once...
Antimony froze mid-step as her eyes caught sight of an unmistakable fluff of blond hair hovering just outside her room. She nearly turned around and fled right there, utterly mortified at that tia seeing her like this, but no - there was nothing to be done for it. How had she lost track of time? She'd been so certain she had at least a quarter bell until...!
Clearing her throat anxiously, Antimony's still damp ears swiveled with uncontrolled nerves as she ventured, "Excuse... me. You're, ah--you're... early!"
D'hein spun to the strange-looking Miqote, thin hair wet and nice clothes but ill-suiting her frame. It didn't really do to wander around wet like that, especially if one couldn't even bother to dress appropriately to one's own size!
Oh, no, it was Antimony. That changed everything! What was that thing she had just said? Some series of words artfully broken like the fake breaks in a stained-glass window. With a smirk, he imagined what a deliberately broken greeting like that must sound like, letting his fabricated substitute fill out his memories since he'd missed it.
And then, with a smile and a bow, he said, "And I’m sure I share those beautiful sentiments, miss Antimony." And then, leaning back, "If you had required or still require time, you need only say so. I'm in no hurry to rush you."
His response confused her enough that she was left stammering for several seconds, clutching the towels and her old clothing to her chest. Sentiments? That he was... early? Did he mean to be early? Had he thought to catch her unawares? How long had he been lurking here? What else had he done while she was bathing??
"I don't--that is, I haven't--I... just wasn't expecting you so... ah! Excuse me!" Face flushed bright red, she hurried around him to the door, "I'll just--just be a moment!"
Retreating a measure with a chuckle, D'hein held up his hands, "Take your time. I tell you what: I'll linger in the tavern and you come fetch me when you're prepared."
"Yes, yes, I'll do just--" the door opened and shut behind her in a flurry, "--that," she finished to the empty room.
With a pained sigh, Antimony trudged over to the table and began to try and put herself back into some semblance of order.
***
Stritching his arms to either side of him -- whacking the walls without noticing -- D'hein began his way back to the tavern and fixed his fingers behind him as he went. He did not bother to get a table once he had set foot in the tavern, though. He just stood and lingered. It was a terribly common place and it was far below him to actually eat the kinds of food they sold here.
***
Once she'd managed to brush out her hair and pin it up into something acceptable that didn't resemble a drake's nest - a process that took very little time, considering the decades of practice she'd had, and her own tendency toward economy of style, rather than fancy flair - Â Antimony tried to give her thoughts a chance to cool. Closing her eyes, she drew in a few, slow breaths and then set about the task of very carefully laying out the damp towels and, more carefully, folding her old clothes. She set the former on the floor next to the bed, alongside the equally dirty winter coat she'd somehow managed to keep ahold of throughout all of this chaos. She wouldn't forgive herself if she lost it, of course; Mitari's gift had been nothing if not heartfelt.
She wondered not for the first time what it might like to take K'airos with her up north. But with K'aijeen as hateful and dangerous...
Antimony forced herself to ignore the sharp ache in her chest those thoughts stirred, as well as the stinging in her nose and behind her eyes. Taking a moment to wipe her glasses with the hem of the clean shirt and, finally, adjust the new articles of clothing in a way she hoped at least looked decent, Antimony finally took her exit of the room in search of D'hein.
***
She found him fairly quickly, near the entryway into the open tavern that led from the inn halls. She approached him quietly, hoping to keep her composure more than the last time they'd interacted, and clasped her hands in front of her.
"Now, I am ready," she stated, standing slightly behind him. Her tail swished in slow arcs behind her, brushing against the loose fabric of her pants.
Watching the working-class mingle was an interesting past-time. How they managed to indulge on such paltry, ugly things, he wasn't sure. The liquor was all essentially the same, except for the quality of the ale which was completely uncoscionable, he was sure, but the food and the environment and just the stink off all the other working-class people should have made contentedness impossible.
All of which was not actually a thing he thought. Was this how the Dodo Nunhs passed their time? Staring down from their towers and lamenting the lesser beings? No, not lamenting. Heckling. Or something.
"Hello!" He finally announced several seconds after Antimony had arrived, spinning around, his tail fairly flailing behind him. Only one of his ears managed the turn to Antimony; the other got lost and ended up listening for the ceiling for some reason. "You look so much more comfortable, now! Collected, prepared. You look like an otherworldly genius descended from some ivory tower, still glistening with divine light!"
"I... what?" Her own ears twisted uncertainly at that description. Certainly he wasn't talking about her. What in all of Eorzea was he talking about? Her tail gave a firm swish and she drew a breath, "Ah, that's... not necessary. I apologize for, well, earlier. I must've lost track of... time or some sort of... well. Regardless."
Her fingers wove together as she looked past D'hein to the tavern, a small twinge of anxiety tightening her chest as she half-expected to spot K'luha or K'ile amongst the throng. Of course, if K'ile were here, he would have smelled her long ago... and perhaps left in disgust. She wouldn't blame him for such a thing. He had no obligation to her, an outsider, twice over. At least she'd thought to sent K'airos to help...
Antimony realized she'd grown quite distracted with these unhappy thoughts and shook herself, returning her focus to the blonde tia in front of her. She tilted her head slightly at him and, for the first time in days, allowed herself to acknowledge the extreme hunger that had been pestering her balance, concentration, and just general being, "You, ah, mentioned we could eat...?"
Watching Antimony passively as she seemed to sink into a comfortable shell of distraction for a few seconds, only to rise out of it suddenly, D'hein at length smirked and said, "Have you ever eaten near or around the hustings strip? Or any of those very red-and-gold interior places of the city?"
She frowned at that. "Of course not. It would be an exorbitant waste of agency resources."
Leaning a bit back, one ear standing up and his eyes flicking around as if to see if he is being spied upon, D'hein said, "It would? Really? Since when!"
Confusion softened her expression, and her ears tilted back somewhat. "Since... well, I have--I mean, had a budget, you should know! It didn't seem proper to spend it on... not that I'd ever considered such a thing."
"Budget? Really? I... Well," He crossed his arms and bit his thumb, looking conflicted. "I guess budgets are a thing we work off of. That must be more common for business dealings than I had suspected. Budgets for contractors is such a mad idea, though, I'd never thought of it! Draconian, but perhaps in a good way."
"In a... what way?" Perhaps it was her hunger getting the better of her, but Antimony found following D'hein's train of thought increasingly difficult. "Everything and everyone has a budget of some kind."
She didn't feel like arguing the point, however, so instead she just twisted her hands together and questioned, "Is that where you wish to dine, then?"
Taking a long time to pull his thoughts away from the revolutionary budgetary paradigms Antimony had invented, D'hein said with some difficulty, "Yes. Unless you have some special wish to remain here."
Green eyes flicked past him to the tavern once more, and Antimony decided then that she was indeed not ready to face any of those she'd run from just yet. She recognized this as cowardly, and the acknowledgement was not without a strong sense of guilt; however, to D'hein she just nodded. "That would be fine." A pause. "The, ah, Hustings Strip, I mean."
"Excellent! I know this place that purports to serve literally the best Ourobon in the entire world!" He spun, pacing his way towards the Quicksand's exit to head off to Ruby Road and, from there, to the Hustings strip. He fixed his hands behind him as he went, smiling upwards and speaking without reserve, "Then, maybe you don't want Ourobon? I'm sure that's a main staple of one's diet in Southern Thanalan!"
It took her several seconds to pull her thoughts together enough to follow him, and when he spoke again, they scattered just as quickly. And she had hoped to maintain order over this dinner...
Antimony flinched and looked off to one side, watching the brown stone wall pass as they walked instead of the man who'd decided to speak of uncomfortable things. "That's... well, yes, but I haven't..." She cleared her throat, trying to free it of the lump that had begun to form, and finally finished, "There's mostly fish in Limsa."
"Oh, right," D'hein said, moving his hands from behind his back and clapping it in front of him, "And an Ourobon is a kind of fish! Inferior to anything you get in Limsa." He put his hands back behind his back. "Although once you've eaten at the Bismarck, well, you'll have a hard time at similar establishments elsewhere! Heed this warning, Antimony!" He brought his hands forward and clapped them again. "Do not order the fish here in Ul'dah. You'll be disappointed."
His gesturing drew her attention from the wall, and she watched it with an almost-fascination at how theatrical they were. "I will keep that in mind," she acknowledged. At this point her stomach made a small, hollow sound and she ducked her head briefly before adding in a hurried tone to cover the embarrassment, "I doubt they have the true staple food, however."
"Ah, but what is truth?" Began D'hein, then shook his head. "Forget I said that." Stupid change of topic! He needed to pay more attention to what he was saying. His tail was churning like a piston behind him as he walked onward, trying to get his brain to work its way back to... food, they had been discussing? Regional food.
He cleared his throat, "Ul'dah itself isn't known for anything of any interest, unfortunately. Unless you like spices. Lots and lots of spices!"
"I'm certain it's all delicious," she replied neutrally and couldn't help but brush against a memory - faded in its age - of a rare venture of trade with the outside world. Spices were one of the treasures their huntresses had returned with, and their flavors had excited the children for weeks. Antimony's ears drooped. She should not think of such things, not when she no longer had right to them.
Think of the present.
The rough stone streets had given way to more delicately carved paths, and many of the walls they passed were now softened with richly colored tapestries. Even the lighting in these inner paths of Ul'dah shifted, gaining a warmer hue, and though she could still catch the pervading scents of sweat and dirt and sickness that covered the city like a shroud, they were more distant here. "Where precisely is this, ah, place...?"
The Dodo stopped in his tracks as the surprised by the question. He looked up, then around him, then down at Antimony wordlessly, his thoughts churning as though through some kind of clanking machine. D'hein blinked.
Antimony frowned, trying to stifle a niggling suspicion; it wouldn't do to make assumptions so frequently. Even if he did seem a bit... "... You do know where we are going, yes?"
D'hein went slightly wide-eyed. Was Antimony trying to test him? Then he must do his very best to pass! Taking a moment to ponder, only a moment so that it did not become awkward, "To... the..." Oh, food!
"It is a magnificent place!" D'hein declared, spinning to walk forward again and turning them up a flight of stairs, "You will marvel at how humble it can be while still evoking such incredible regality! Quite like myself, actually. Or yourself, now that I think about it!"
There was no real way to avoid the heat in her cheeks at that. "I am not... I wouldn't call myself regal in any..." Her ears shook vigorously at the thought. These compliments he seemed to be constantly armed with were really going to be the end of her.
The stairs were a bit more difficult than they should have been, perhaps credit to her scant rest of late, but she watched his ears to distract herself. Always mobile, she half-wondered if they were even a part of his head. It would... well, that was a silly thought.
"Oh, I would call you regal by most definitions," D'hein said with a laugh, "And I'm an expert on the definitions of that word. Here!" D'hein cut off half-way up the stairs into a relatively thin hallway, dashing into it as though diving for cover. In truth, he almost hadn't noticed it, so acted quickly when he did.
The suddenness of his action caught Antimony off-guard and she half-stumbled to keep up with him before realizing he probably wouldn't go running off without her. So she took a moment to catch her balance and her orientation before also turning down the hall he'd dove into, looking up as she did so. The ceiling vaulted high above them, making the narrow hallway seem strangely confining, or perhaps just very far below ground. Either way, it was a bit claustrophobic, and Antimony quickly returned her gaze forward to D'hein.
"I'll admit I'm a bit relieved," she said as she followed him. "Food has not been a high priority for... ah! Not that I--I don't intend to rush or... it's not as though I accepted this invitation only to take advantage of you, well, your.. ngh."
D'hein paused, staring up at the high vaulted ceiling, where it was eerily consumed by shadows. The eccentricity of the hall was charming to him, like a friend with a dark sense of humor. D'hein dropped his gaze to Antimony, and inclined his head in a tiny faux bow, "Antimony, there's an honor in having one's hospitality take advantage of. If you accepted for only that reason, I would be delighted." And then he was marching happily down the hallway again.
"Oh. That's--ah... alright." She followed him in silence for several moments. The strange, sideways flattery kept throwing her off, and she wasn't entirely sure what else to say to such things. She certainly didn't understand where they came from.
"Airos," she spoke suddenly, slowing her steps briefly as she pictured her middle daughter before hurrying back alongside him and adding in a quieter tone, "She... looks well."
"Oh, she's very well! Charming and beautiful beyond the right of any flower or star," D'hein glanced back at Antimony as he walked, "And if you point it out her face glows red as a sunset. Industrious. If I had half the virtues she did I'd own all of Ul'dah by now."
He took another sudden, sideways turn, through an even darker entry than the previous one. This took him not into a hallway, though, but instead into a modest and low-ceiling'ed room. More of a den than a tavern, it had a small number of long, maple tables on a dark clay floor, the walls tiles a deep rust red. The firelight was a soft orange, kept dim and calm.
The shadows were deep, but they were warmly so. The handful of patrons, well short of a dozen, spoke in low, amicable tones. They were all people who knew how to speak softly, calmly, and their words carried well in this silent place so far from the roads.
Further talk of her daughter - such as that she wouldn't stand for him to hold any designs on her K'airos - stilled in Antimony's throat as they entered this new room, the unexpected shift in decor and mood pausing her steps a moment. There was a certain understated but very clear wealth to the room that left Antimony feeling out of place; she only hoped it didn't show too much in her face.
Well, she certainly would not be seeing K'ile or K'luha here, at the very least.
"I assume this is... it?" Her hands fidgeted with the sleeves of her borrowed shirt. "It's certainly, ah, cozy."
"Pause for a moment," D'hein said, spinning on Antimony and holding up his hands. "Close your eyes and imagine a sunset."
"I... what?" She blinked rapidly behind her glasses at his hands, then up as though she could see the sky - which, of course, she could not - and then back to D'hein. "Whatever for...?"
Frowning for a moment, D'hein said patiently, "The decor of the place makes no sense unless you play along."
Glancing around the room at the other patrons, most of whom seemed content ignoring her and D'hein to her relief, Antimony finally sighed in acquiescence. "Very well. If you insist..."
Standing very straight, legs and arms together, Antimony closed her eyes and tried to picture a sunset. At first, she thought of oranges and yellows over broad spans of rolling water, the tones softened by evening mist rolling in, but such a scene didn't seem appropriate for the setting. And she couldn't help... the slow waves became rolling dunes, and the mist pulled back to a clear sky, the sun blazing with a mighty fury low on the horizon. Her chest ached.
"Alright, now," D'hein lifted his hands to gesture as he spoke, watching Antimony's features, "Fix the sunset in your mind. The place and time don't matter. But the light, the color, the warmth of the day. And then let the sun set beyond the horizon. Just that instant after the sunset, where everything is blue and purple except the lingering red in the sky. And the scent of the day is still there, the heat of it before the cool comes, and everything is dark and shadowed. Kind shadows that leave beautiful lines on everyone's faces."
Her ears tilted at the request, confused at the purpose that remained obscured behind it. "Are you certain this is necessary," she muttered, but did her best to play along. Drawing a deep breath, Antimony watched Azeyma's eye dip and fade, and as she did this, she wondered how many sunsets she had missed with her daughters. She swallowed at the thought and tried to focus on the cooling sand, the cool shadows that were not yet sharpened by moonlight.
Letting a truncated sigh slip at Antimony's question, D'hein pushed forward anyway, "Just fix that time and setting in your head. Cool, warm, comfortable, when the light is easiest and the air comfortable, and the shadows make everyone appear deep, mysterious, fascinating." He dropped his hands, "And that's it. Minutes After Sunset. That's what this place is called."
She was silent for a moment, eyes still closed, and gave an honest effort to indulge in the feelings D'hein sought to engender. They were tempered, however, by the familiarity of the vision she'd called up, and after a time she sighed, her tail drooping to hang low behind her. "It's quite lovely," she admitted, which was true despite those other things. The small establishment had succeeded in what it had clearly set out to do. "Though I tend to prefer night once it's fully set in and the stars are clearly visible. Better to chart constellations that way."
She frowned with her eyes still closed, not sure why she'd volunteered that information.
"If we could see the stars from in here, I might agree. Except that nights can be so cold, and I'm a man who prefers to stay warm." He reached out and briefly brushed her shouler with one of his gloved hands, "You can open your eyes now. I'll find us a seat." He turned to the soft lamplight and deep shadows of the place, finding that he had his pick of every seat. He went for one that looked comfortable, near a wall, away from people.
She'd never minded the cold, not when she'd had her charcoal and the few, precious sheets of hide she'd managed to beg off the huntresses, bits of worm skin too worn thin or too stiff to be used for other purposes. The weight of the memories D'hein had unknowingly stirred nearly staggered her, and Antimony opened her eyes swiftly at his notice, looking around the room once more to try and dispel them.
She followed him to the corner he'd chosen quietly, looked over the low, round table and its rather comfortable looking chairs, and settled into one with no small amount of appreciation. She didn't speak immediately, torn between wanting to bring K'airos up again or venture for something more neutral.
Before beginning any conversation, D'hein turned to wave over towards the long, narrow bar that huddled patronless against the wall. He received a nod from the bartender, and then D'hein turned back to Antimony and said, "A place like this doesn't really have a static menu. Their selection is smell and varies greatly, so I usually just forego picking something out and let the kitchen do so for me. Do you have any reservations or allergies?"
"Uhm," her brow furrowed at the question, though it was straightforward enough. "I don't... think so, no." Green eyes shifted towards the bar D'hein had made some wordless communication towards, wondering what had been exchanged, and then back to the miqo'te before her. "Do you?"
"No," D'hein said. "I don't think so. Do you drink?"
Oh, that question. She recalled unhappily those unfortunate two evenings with Captain Lamandu, tried to remember if she'd managed to get a taste of whatever he had ordered for her. The memory of Ulanan growing louder and more overtly scandalizing was more prominent in her mind, however, and she fidgeted a bit before admitting, "I haven't. Though... I'm not sure I'd be averse."
"It's more of an after-dinner thing for me," D'hein said, open palms on the table between them, "But different people do so differently. If there's anything that you're in the habit of or that you desire which doesn't rise to the top of my head, please just say so and let me take care of it. I don't want you to hesitate at all."
Glancing around the warmly shadowed room, Antimony shook her head slightly, ears shifting at the various levels of conversation. "I'm sure none of my habits are... well, necessary for this kind of place."
"All that's necessary is whatever makes one comfortable and relaxed. Case and point." D'hein withdrew his hands as two large glasses of chilled milk were placed on the table, one near him and one near Antimony. "I myself am simple. All I wanted after two months away on business was a cup of milk, so of course that witch of an Elezen pillaged my poor, helpless milk bar while I was gone. Fresh stock is difficult to come by in the desert."
"Away? What were you--ah, not that it's... any of my business." She blinked at the glass, watched the condensation settle in a ring on the coaster it had been placed upon. Her tail shook. "I will be quite alright with whatever they have to offer," she ventured to reassure, and certainly this was true. She hadn't eaten much more than a few fruits the past few days; even sun-rotten worm meat would seem appetizing at this point, she was so far beyond being picky.
"Alright, then. I'll stop worrying." D'hein said, holding his glass of milk in both hands immediately in front of him and staring at it fondly for number of seconds before indulging in a long, slow sip.
"Thank you." Not an entirely appropriate response, but it was the best she could do. She watched D'hein sip from his milk for a moment, then glanced to her own, recalling the last time she'd had milk. Such a disastrous interview... though apparently not too disastrous. Her hands moved grip it, letting the condensation sink into her palms for a moment, before she lifted it to her lips for a small sip. It wasn't food yet, but it was something, and she couldn't resist another, and then a third.
D'hein smirked over his own cup of milk to watch Antimony drinking hers.
Catching D'hein's look, Antimony stilled and then cleared her throat, flicking her eyes away briefly and setting her glass down. "Ah, excuse me. Overcome with... well." Her ears twitched in discomfort.
"I'm glad you like it." D'hein said, setting down his own glass and giving Antimony a full smile, "You'd be surprised some of the looks I get!"
His words didn't quite follow, and she furrowed her brow at him. "For... what?"
He tilted his head, "For drinking so much milk. People think it's strange, but I'm unsure why. It's good for a person. I'm always telling everyone that they should be sure to drink plenty of milk!"
Her ears followed the tilt of his head. "Surely it's not so vital. I lived without it for decades, after all."
"It is absolutely vital!" D'hein said, strongly, "That you lived without it is tragic, but it must be an artifact of your cleverness, a testament to mankind's will to live, that you somehow managed to substitute its presence in your diet. Such miraculous alchemy is beyond my comprehension, but where I walk there shall never be need of it. From now on, you will have just as much milk to drink as I've always provided my own family." He punctuated this speech by downing some milk.
"That's... very kind of you," Antimony mumbled, looking bewildered by the passion driving his words. Still, it was... She could at least appreciate the sentiment behind it. Her eyes dropped to her glass, and she couldn't help the sad tone to her voice when she said, "As you've done with Aijeen and Airos?"
"Precisely," D'hein said, leaning back in his chair and swirling his milk like a glass of wine. "Although D'aijeen is as stubborn about it as anyone and got it in her head that it's bad for K'airos as well."
She looked up worriedly at that. "She's got ahold of--" Her words cut off suddenly though, as she finally caught on to something she had perhaps heard numerous times now but had refused to acknowledge. "... She truly changed her name?" She said a bit quieter and then looked down. "She hates me that much."
"Eeeh," D'hein sat his milk down and thrummed his fingertips against the glass, creating a rhythmic plunking sound and rippling the surface fo the cream. "She became a Dodo so she could abuse our resources. She did keep her given name, which I think counts for more. And I would say that she does not have any straightforward emotions about anything, so..." He bit down on his cheek to silence himself.
"Her words in that corpse yard were very straightforward," Antimony muttered lowly, ears laying back. She couldn't help that despair, that there was nothing she could do to change her youngest daughter's mind. She'd tried for years. She'd done everything she could to protect her, and in the end it had meant nothing. And that she now threatened to take K'airos from her... "Please," she spoke suddenly, giving D'hein and earnest look, "Tell me how they've lived. What you've... done."
The Dodo watched Antimony's features, and couldn't help but to let his own emotions be moved downward by them. Her frown deepened his own. The softness of her eyes took the edge of happiness from his own. But he watched her stubbornly, even as a server arrived to decorate their table with a number of fresh dishes: breads, vegetables, a medley of dark meats from desert animals.
Giving neither the food nor the server a moment's consideration, he said, "Your daughters are doing well. I think you would be proud of them. Both of them."
"I want to believe you," she ducked her head, eyes dropping to the food placed before them and finding her appetite gone despite the emptiness in her gut. "But Aijeen, I don't... know her. I'm not sure she'll ever... allow me to." And there it was. She'd thought enough time had passed that perhaps it had grown dull, or at least distant like the grief for other lost family, but that emptiness she'd felt when she'd awoken one morning to find her youngest daughter gone, lost to the dunes... She turned her head away sharply, blinked hard.
"I'm sorry," she choked out. "This isn't... the best time for these kinds of words, I don't think. You shouldn't have to--that is, I shouldn't be... ah, I will try to just enjoy the food."
"Here," D'hein spoke with a patient smile, setting a piece of meat on a plate, placing some vegetables with it. "See if you can tell me by taste what is what. And how good a job the culinarian did." He pushed the plate towards Antimony.
Pulling in a few, unsteady breaths, Antimony turned back to the table and tried to focus on D'hein's words, the varied smells of food. "Ah, I'm... not nearly so skilled as to presume to judge an esteemed culinarian," she mumbled but took up the utensils by the plate anyway. Something familiar settled in the scents wafting up from the plate, something she recognized almost immediately, "Sun drake." This quiet announcement was followed with a small bite, and sure enough, that's what it was. Some of the flavor was different, heftier than she was used to, likely because most meat she'd ever eaten had first been dried and cured. Unmistakable, however. Antimony frowned; it seemed the past was not about to let her go.
"Ah, I do love Sun Drake," D'hein said, taking a plate and snagging some of the meat for himself. "Something about eating a predator is just so... Does justice have a taste? If it did, it would be Sun Drake."
Momentarily distracted from her previous nadir or emotion by D'hein's challenge and unusual comment, Antimony found herself struck by an almost desperate urge to... well, to eat. For this reason, her only response was a slight nod as she continued with bites of the seared drake flesh. The culinarian who had prepared it had dusted it with a crust of seasonings that sharpened the gamey taste of the meat.
"I'll admit, I'd not realized it could be quite so... well, not stringy," she admitted after a moment, before going back to finally (finally!) filling her stomach.
"An Ul'dahn culinarian can shock you with their ability change the shape and form of a thing. They have to. Not as much to work with as in Limsa Lominsa. Well," he rolled his eyes while absently piling random vegetables on his plate, "Unless they want to import, but usually that is restricted to Syndicate kitchens."
Noticing his partaking of vegetables drew Antimony's attention to those on her own plate she had been erstwhile neglecting. It was strange what hunger could do to one, for suddenly those vegetables - green, stalky things and others that looked like roots of some kind - seemed the most delectable items she'd ever laid eyes upon. She only barely restrained herself from all but diving into them. Her tail twitched at the very end as she ate, flicking against the side of her chair in a rapid rhythm.
Still having not begun on his own food, D'hein set his prepared plate in front of himself and once again enjoyed watching Antimony for a moment. "Don't eat too fast or you'll make yourself sick," he cautioned, "And remember to drink your milk," he hefted his own glass in illustration.
A flinch knocked her fork against the edge of the plate, the sound uncomfortably loud to Antimony compared to the hushed tones of the rest of the dining area. She almost looked around, half expecting the other patrons to be staring agog at her mad rush to consume the food placed in front of her, but her own chagrin kept her frozen staring forward and down. Very deliberately, she slowed her pace and stammered, "Very sorry, I--well, it's just that I haven't had... I mean, there was the apple Megiddo gave me... and that pear of Airos's, and--well, Miss Aeriyn's apple as well and... that's.. mmm--" She trailed off, ducking her head slightly to chew on a bite of root vegetable.
"There's nothing to apologize for. Unless you make yourself sick, in which case I'll make you apologize for ignoring my warnings." The Dodo pulled his plate over and began to push his vegetables around in the juices from his meat. Without looking, he took a serving of sauce and poured it over the mix as well, fairly ruining the artful presentation of the food he'd been given.
Some of the edge had been taken off her hunger by then anyway, so Antimony found it easier to keep her eating at a slower pace; however, this also resulted in more periods of awkward - at least to her - silence where she neither ate nor spoke. Her knee bounced anxiously under the table until she set one hand one it to still the limb, but then her tail picked up the slack, flicking back and forth along the side of the chair.
In this silence, more nagging thoughts presented themselves, and against her better judgment, she ventured another question regarding her daughters: "Ahm," she coughed to clear her throat and then continued, "Aijeen, has she... She was never very satisfied with my... well, has she continued, ah, studying? Under your care?" The last few words were difficult to say, acknowledging D'hein's role in her daughter's life, but she thought she managed them without too much dubiousness or jealousy. She hoped so, at least.
"Maybe?" D'hein said, taking a moment to chewy on a stringy, tough vegetable as he thought, green eyes cast towards some candles a few tables away. After he swallowed, he said, "Under my care, not so much. I paid for her to study Conjury in Gridania for a couple of years, and after she decided she was done with that, Thaumaturgy here in Ul'dah. I think she's studying Alchemy now?"
Green eyes widened slightly at the mention of thaumaturgy, recalling the Ul'dahn guild's proximity to the Ossuary as well as K'aijeen's proximity to the death all over Drybone. The thought left her feeling ill and she set down her fork carefully. A memory tugged at one corner of her mind, of an incomprehensible beast of bone and sinew and... "Vultures," she mumbled faintly and then shook herself while her hands shook in turn. "Does she... do you know if she sti--ah, if she studies the... dead?"
Pausing as he cut through a piece of meat, and then giving it a distasteful look as though it had transformed into something ugly, D'hein frowned up at Antimony and said, "That's an odd way to say it. If you mean Thaumaturgy, there's more to it than simply death, and I don't think she is still studying it."
"No," Antimony shook her head slightly, ears shivering before setting back against her head. Her tone dropped, "I mean the dead."
"... Like, history?"
The creases around her eyes deepened with an anxious, worried look. "No. The... dea—corpses. She used to..."
"I don't know anything about that," D'hein said, rather quickly, and forced himself to return to cutting the piece of meat on his plate. "Conjury and Thaumaturgy each deal with death in their own ways and times, but as far as I can tell, that's the extent of it. And I'm told she helps in Drybone sometimes, but Thaumaturgy has its uses there and they do need lots of help."
Her meal had become utterly unappetizing somehow, and she blinked down at his with a heavy look. "Before she--" Antimony winced, forced herself to pick up her fork and knife, but she couldn't manage to do anything with the utensils. "--left, she would... take them apart. Bodies. Of... hunted prey. I thought it was just, ah, harmless curiosity at first but..." Antimony swallowed dryly.
"I..." D'hein began, his voice falling away as he stared at Antimony, struggling for words, "I am not aware of such a hobby myself. There are so many good things that D'aijeen does. Should we not discuss those? She takes excellent care of K'airos, for instance."
Her hands tightened about her fork and knife, her features following suit. "It--it's just that I worry... if she still... the night before she--left, she summoned a /beast/, a demon!" Antimony flinched then, ducking her head as her voice lifted and cracked, chancing a nervous look to one side, but she couldn't tell if she'd drawn attention from any other patrons. "If she's putting K'airos in danger, or herself," she managed after a moment, quieter, in fact barely above a whisper. "I... worry."
His hands motionless around his silverware, D'hein delayed a great while with his eyes fixed on Antimony, before finally saying, "I've seen no indication of that she's putting anyone in danger. She's a bit argumentative, sure, but that's... all. Pretty much."
The set of her mouth and brow spoke of how little his words did to convince her that her daughter had turned away from the dark practices she'd glimpsed that horrible night. She wanted to press him further; if he were truly taking care of her, surely he'd have spent enough time around her to notice? She couldn't fathom K'aijeen ceasing action on the very thing that had caused her to leave the tribe in the first place. Unless... it had been something else that had driven her away. Someone else
Antimony's ears drooped low to the sides of her head, and she forced a bite of the drake steak though it now tasted like little more than parchment to her distracted mind. "If you... are certain," she finally said and then fell into a sad, brooding silence.
"I think you should ask K'airos about that," D'hein said, taking a vegetable, a piece of meat, another vegetable on his fork. "If anybody knows D'aijeen better than anyone else, it's her. They've been firmly attached to one another ever since D'aijeen brought K'airos to us."
Antimony sighed, "I am not surprised. They... were always close." She glanced away again, then toward D'hein but found she couldn't quite look him in the eyes. Instead she settled for the collar of his shirt, a neutral point. Her tail twitched and she muttered a bit despairingly, "I am sorry. I must be horrible at dinner conversation."
"That just means you need practice!" D'hein proclaimed, finding a happy tone again. He let his head lean down to try and catch her eyes with his own, "Or lessons. One thing I am greatly skilled at teaching is etiquette and conversation! I'm sure you'd take to lessons with an exceptional talent. You do seem talented at all things."
"What? That--ah, that isn't--" The compliment caught her off guard - yet again, he seemed to be making a pattern of it and she still couldn't catch on, apparently. She stammered for a moment, flicking her eyes up to his and then down to one side. "Lessons. It's--it's not as though I'm some un--uncivilized savage!"
Perhaps not an entirely fair retort, considering the spirit in which the offer had been made, but his words recalled the difficulty she'd had blending with Limsa Lominsa's society in those first few years following the nightmare of the Calamity. Antimony felt a heat in her face.
"No, Antimony," D'hein gesture to himself, "I am the savage, for if I were a more honest and smooth man, better trusted and reputed, I could have reunited you with your daughters with so little effort. And Ul'dah is uncivilized, or else we would not wish to hide from it in such a place as this."
"Well." She wanted to cross her arms, but she still held her utensils and her hands seemed unwilling to release them. Instead her lips pursed and she leaned slightly back from the table, actions meant to buoy herself in the face of uncomfortable embarrassment. "You certainly could have--if you hadn't been so... invasive about it!" Ears swiveling, Antimony furrowed her brow and pulled her tail close to one leg.
"Precisely. I was such a beast about it. An accident!" D'hein gestured with his fork, "An accident caused by a lack of information, but also a lack of respect for your incredible delicateness. Both genius and incredible beauties are reputed for demanding cautious interaction and a gentle touch. I should have shown much greater care for you, who are both those things, and a mother besides."
Bowing his head, D'hein said mournfully, "Rare was she, like the shadow cast in a lonely heart by a lovely song, and my words so hastily spoken. IN my eagerness to place the rose in her hair, I left the thorns upon its stem, and she bled so tragically! Forgiveness for such a thing is a flower as well," he lifted his face again, "Perhaps one I can never grow."
Silence greeted D'hein's words for an elongated minute. She felt as though he'd spun her round and then set her loose to wander dizzily through the restaurant, though she remained seated at the table. After a time, she opened her mouth to try for a reply, but found nothing that could suit the nature of his declaration. Incredible delicateness? A rose? What in all of Eorzea was he intending with such words?
That wasn't to say she couldn't glean his meaning, but his manner of speech... well. It certainly made the only reply she could come up with feel all too inadequate, "It is... alright." She sighed slightly, glanced towards him. "As I said to Airos, I'm... just happy to have her back."
Stabbing a leafy vegetable dripping in some kind of brown juice, D'hein said, "Forgiveness is a sweet-smelling flower. So sad that it bloom only in misunderstanding, but it is so brilliant as to chase away all lingering unpleasantness."
"Ah, that isn't... I'm sorry?" She felt as though she'd missed something, though she was also reasonably certain she'd understood his flowery language. Did all Ul'dahns speak in this way? No, she'd heard plenty by now during her stay. This seemed rather uniquely D'hein, for whatever it was worth.
She found her fingers fidgeting with her fork then as she sought for something to change the subject to.
"No reason to continue apologizing," D'hein said, seeming to remember he had food to eat and returning to it.
Had she been apologizing? Antimony really couldn't be sure anymore. Instead, she welcomed his distraction with food as an opportunity to try and re-center herself - and perhaps find her appetite again. She did not volunteer another topic of conversation; the last few times she had, it had not exactly turned out well.
After eating for a bit -- something he hadn't actually gotten around to doing yet -- D'hein paused and ventured, "Iiiiiincidentally, I haven't seen Ulanan around you. Has she finally gone off and began some grand adventure of her own?"
Guilt chased her thoughts at the mention of her lalafell friend. "No, I don't--well, that is, the last time I saw her was--I'd left for.. ah..." She sighed after a moment and then just shrugged, looking regretful. "I don't know. I asked her to, ah, check in on someone but after that..."
"Ah, well. I should like to talk to her. Oh, I have a question," D'hein leaned forward and smiled like a mischievous voidsent, "How did you eventually 'stumble' across K'airos, anyway?"
"I didn't stumble!" Antimony protested automatically and then flushed, ducking her head for a second before adding in a calmer, if reluctant tone, "Ulanan had, ah, arranged an escort. To... well, it doesn't matter where."
"So it was Ulanan's doing after all," D'hein leaned back, nodding to himself, "So I had guess. My plan would have had you discovering K'airos much sooner, but obviously it ran afoul. I'm glad Ulanan decided to help it along."
"Yes, yes, and I wish you two hadn't conspired so...!" She let out a rough breath through her nose, closed her eyes, and then after a moment in a calmer tone that seemed to shrink as her words went on, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bring that... up... again."
D'hein held one hand up and across the table, fingers poised as if holding a slender object and offering it to Antimony, "Do you want that flower of forgiveness back?"
Antimony frowned sharply, but the expression was tempered by the chagrined set of her ears. "I wouldn't take back something like that."
"That statement is just as good as a renewed apology," D'hein said, placing the imaginary flower upon his breast and fixing it there with some kind of invisible pin. "Thank you. I think its color goes quite well with the rest of my outfit."
She couldn't tell if she were being made a fool or if his elaborate phrases were genuine. The possibility of the former kept an uncomfortable warmth to her face and an anxious twitter in her tail. Once again there didn't seem to be anything worthy of use in a retort - none that she could think of, at any rate. Antimony, the uncivilized savage, it seemed.
Poking at what remained of her meal, Antimony chose silence again.
Returning to his meal again, he said, "Make sure you drink your milk! Perhaps if you set an example K'airos will take after it."
"She isn't here to observe the example," Antimony pointed out, then winced and took the glass in hand as though in apology.
"True, but habits do rub off in the long-term. Or so I've observed."
"Only if the other is truly receptive to the habits," Antimony found herself bemoaning rather pathetically. "How many times I tried to get Aijeen to... ah." She fell suddenly quiet and averted her eyes once more. Could she not go ten minutes without bumbling back onto that cursed topic?
"I understand your reluctance to discuss Aijeen," D'hein stated, somberly, "It seems there is some great regret between the two of you. And have no doubt that it is mutual; I've observed that much at least."
Perhaps regret was one way to describe it, yes, though... "I'm not certain what I would regret," she replied lowly. "I... tried everything I could to reach her. But every time, I'm the--the crone. The stupid one." She let out a faint sigh. "Holding her back. From summoning demons? I--I don't understand it."
"I'm not sure she thinks through hurtful things before she says them."
"She thought them through plenty, if their frequency was anything to judge by," she replied morosely.
"I don't believe it is," D'hein answered, his grin a static thing, his tone serious. "It's not something we can see more than one angle on -- she makes sure if that -- but there is more than one angle on it. There is with everything."
"Mm," was all the response Antimony could muster to that. She dropped her gaze to her plate - food mostly consumed by now - and tried to think of happier promises K'airos had given her.
"I envy K'airos the adoration she receives from Aijeen. As long as that remains strong, though, I'm sure the girls will do fine."
"And--if Aijeen sees fit to--to take her from me? She's already tried...!"
Pushing his plate aside and poking at some food on one of the serving platters, D'hein states, "K'airos provides for Aijeen more than I do these days. I doubt Aijeen could force K'airos to go anywhere she didn't want to. And besides, K'airos is a Brass Blade. That job comes with responsibility. She really /can't/ go anywhere."
Antimony wavered for several moments between further despair and acceptance she very much wanted. Finally with a sigh, her posture opened up just slightly. "You... are right. She--I must believe she's far too responsible to do anything... anything rash like... that."
Smiling a bit wider, D'hein says, "K'airos makes a good city Miqo'te. She keeps track of her money and sets goals."
She looked up to D'hein at that, one side of her mouth shifting in a very faint smile. "I'm--I'm glad. I'm sure it was... well, it's not all that different from... ah. She gives me hope."
"I'm sure she'll give you more the more you talk to her. She's very good for that. She may even give you hope for Aijeen, if you ask her for it."
She had to wonder at that, and guiltily she recalled a conversation under a tree in a Thanalan downpour with an old Duskwight. But no, she couldn't give up on her daughters so quickly. "Perhaps. We'll see."
"That's the most optimistic I've heard you all night!" D'hein said, leaning forward on his elbows, "Are you the type to partake of dessert? You'd be surprised the cornucopia of baked sweets that one can prepare with access to good milk. And most of it goes well /with/ milk as well!" One of his ears bounced. The other turned about.
"I..." She watched the uneven turning of his ears and then his face before letting out a small breath. "I think I'm getting rather tired, truth be told."
"That's probably because you ate so much," D'hein said. "If you leave now you'll be wide awake by the time you get back to your room. A bit of a dessert will leave you ready for sleep!"
How could one protest that? Probably easily, but Antimony couldn't bring herself to regardless. Instead she just nodded once. "... Alright. I suppose it can't hurt to learn what, ah, might be in that cornucopia."
"Excellent!" D'hein said, one ear rotating to broadcast the turn of his head which came a moment later, point his gaze to the bar. His other ear never quite caught up. His tail swung around beneath the table, whacking the legs loudly, and probably whacking Antimony's legs as well. "We'll just see what they have baked up today." He waved.
Antimony ignored the wayward whacking of his tail for the moment and did her best, once more, to stay in the present. A good desert might indeed help.
![[Image: AntiThalSig.png]](https://dl.dropboxusercontent.com/u/179079766/AntiThalSig.png)
"Song dogs barking at the break of dawn, lightning pushes the edges of a thunderstorm; and these streets, quiet as a sleeping army, send their battered dreams to heaven."
Hipparion Tribe (Sagolii)Â - Â Antimony Jhanhi's Wiki
