I settle in one of the armchairs, and chat to Kroy about work and Flimsy Sheath while we wait for Egbert to return with their tea.
“So, what are you and Willan up to tonight?” Egbert asks, grunting as he squeezes into the small space Kroy’s left on the couch by his feet, ignoring the whole other armchair free beside me.
“I have no idea. Probably just hanging around here, getting in the way like usual.” I laugh, only a smidge serious.
Egbert frowns, mid-pour of the teapot, but doesn’t say anything. Kroy, however, waves a big hand, feathers and frothy layers fluttering.
“Pah! You kids should go out! Have fun!” He exclaims. “Youth is wasted on the young, I’m telling you. I swear, if I was younger and had a body like either of you I’d?—”
He cuts off, aware of Egbert’s stare as he offers Kroy a tea cup.
“What exactly would you do?” Egbert infuses the same steady authority into his voice that Willan does when he’s in professor mode. Only Egbert’s had a few more years to perfect it. The effect is immediate, Kroy blushing violently, pressing his hand demurely to his chest.
“Why, I’d stay home, of course. Responsibly.” He simpers, all but fluttering his eyelashes. Egbert shoves the tea cup in at Kroy, who takes it far more daintily than his size would imply, and grunts.
“Yes. I’m sure that’sexactlywhat you’d do.” He rolls his eyes at me, scoffing.
I can’t even reply. I’m pretty sure my two uncle-type figures are… boning? Or, at least, want to bone.
I don’t know how I feel about that, so I take a long sip of my blood and try to stem my regret at coming up here. Though it’s kind of a fitting end to an emotionally weird night.
“Actually, I wanted to talk to you.” The change of topic by Egbert feels abrupt, but I’m grateful all the same.
“Why’s that?” I flick my eyes to Kroy but he just shrugs.
“I found an old loom down in the basement and thought you might be interested. It’s a bit big, so we’ll probably have to set you up somewhere here to work it, and I reckon one of the treddles might be broken, but with a little love it could be brought back to life.”
Oh.
“I—I don’t. I don’t know.” Genuinely dumbfounded, I look to Kroy, who’s giving me one of his ‘Boy, are you stupid?’ looks. Egbert waits patiently, taking the lid off the teapot and removing the steeping herbs.
“No pressure. I’ll clear a path—the bloody basement’s overloaded with crap.” He adds to Kroy, then turns back to mewith a smile, making the ends of his moustache twitch. “You can get to it when you’re ready.”
I’ll clear a path. You can get to it when you’re ready. A loaded sentiment. Both of them.
I haven’t touched a loom since I left the mountain. Haven’t even thought about it. Returning to something that was so intrinsically tied to my existence as a mage without my magic made my heart ache.
Or at least it used to.
Was this just one more step in the path Egbert’s been clearing the whole time?
Fuck.
I meet his hooded eyes over the tea cup poised at his lips. He smiles, in that all-knowing way mages love to do. It’s a way of hedging their bets. Say a little about a lot, but keep it vague enough to be open to interpretation, so you can always claim to have known all along.
This time, I think he did.
“Uh—yeah. I guess. I’ll think about it?” It’s the right answer. The approval shouldn’t fill me with a tingling kind of warmth, but it does. He’s probably going to ask me to weave him something.
Kroy launches into a story about the shop and his customers and some new treasure that he’s found. As much as I try to focus, I can’t stop thinking about the loom. I can almost feel the weight of the shuttle in my hand already, a thousand patterns and projects to make. My mind might still be thinking, but it seems my heart has already decided.
Before I know it, the first prickles of dawn make themselves known.
“I’m really sorry.” I stand up, stretching against the bone weary tiredness already overtaking me. “I better get going.”
“Right.” Egbert stands too, slapping his knees. Kroy waves me over for another hug goodbye, which I give him wholeheartedly, enjoying the extra squeeze he gives my shoulders.
“You’re never in the way, you know.” Egbert says seriously at the door, furrowing his brows. “There is always a place for you here. No matter what.”
