With the cold in full swing, I cover all my plants to keep them protected throughout the winter months. I've harvested every herb and vegetable I can utilize until the spring months when my plants come back alive. I don't particularly care for the cold season. My garden is depressing and void of life. My hands almost lack a purpose. But it's in these winter months I create most of my balms and ointments and lotions for the following year.
Typically, Eris helps me with the winter prep, but she was called to the castle to give my uncle and cousin the rundown on Hydran royalty. I've been having nightmares that her identity will be discovered, that mydisimulowill fail her when she needs it most, but I have to thrust those fears to the back of my mind and bury myself in my work.
Eris will be fine.
I will be fine.
There's a season for everything. And like my plants, I'll adjust.
Finished with my end-of-year routine, I walk through the back doors into the kitchen with a basket full of goods. I'm so focused on getting to the butcherblock island to cut and organize my herbs that I don't realize I'm not alone.
Slight movement to my left draws my attention. Thrane leans against the cabinets, his unexpected and uninvited presence startling me.
"I've given your magic quite a bit of thought and I believe I can help you," Thrane forgoes formal greetings and skips right to his point. Which isn't welcome.
I frown, closing the door behind me. "What the hell are you doing in my kitchen? Shouldn't you be out terrorizing Atlas or something?"
"Lessons are over for today," Thrane tosses one of the grapes on the butcherblock island into his mouth, so I move the bowl out of his reach. He smirks. "Aurelia let me in. Are you going to continue dancing around the real reason for my visit? If so, I have all night to stick around."
"You shouldn't be here," I whisper harshly, praying no one comes in to find two of the most unlikely people talking.
"Dancing it is," Thrane rolls up his sleeves and stands beside me. "What do you need help with?"
"What?"
"If I am going to be in the kitchen for Stars knows how long until you acknowledge what I'm here to discuss, I might as well help you prepare dinner or whatever it is you're doing."
I roll my eyes, continuing to tear herbs off their stems. "There's nothing to discuss."
"You haven't even allowed me to explain."
I sigh. "You're not going to leave me alone are you?"
Thrane smiles and it's severely off-putting. "No."
"Fine," I grumble and shove a yellow onion into his hand. "You can cut the onions."
The Frost Elf groans, "Not the onions. They sting my eyes."
"How tragic," I place a knife and empty bowl in front of him. "You offered to help."
"I'll chop your onions if you listen to me," Thrane wiggles his agenda in. "Deal?"
I shouldn't agree. I have no real need to listen to whatever wild idea he's come up with, but my curiosity gets the better of me. "Fine."
"I must admit, you had me puzzled. But when I was dying at the Northern Crest – "
"You were dying?" My eyes widen.
"It's impolite to interrupt," he wags his knife at me. "But yes. Aurelia patched me up. Now, as I was saying. While I was dying, experiencing excruciating pain, I wondered what it would feel like if I could pass peacefully. Then it hit me." He stops chopping, his grey eyes already bloodshot from the onions, and stares at me. "Have you considered you're not a pain inflictor?"
I slam my hand down on the counter, frustration overtaking me. "You saw for yourself what my magic is capable of," I hiss lowly. "You might be worse than the professors who were tasked with training me. At least they didn't question my – "
Thrane holds up a hand, matching my tone with an equally irritated one of his own. "Excuse me, but you didn't let me finish."
I tilt my head up toward the ceiling and motion for him to continue. "Go on."
"Thank you." He returns to his task. "What if you didn't just inflict pain. What if you controlled pain as well?"
