[log] both your friend and your enemy think you will never die

[apostatised]

The crisp cold air in Arum gives way to the more temperate nexus, and Martel loosens his cloak as he walks further away from the portal - habitually, as if this is something that he does quite often, because it is. The nexus has become a routine the way he knows just about anything can become routine, and he uses it for recreation and for business and for self-indulgence and for all sorts of things that are alternately useful or logically pointless. His opinion of the place changes daily, but tends to baseline at 'tolerant'; today he's not really thinking about it, going about his business unremarkable and unremarked on.

In the nexus there are any number of places he could be found, for any number of reasons. As he makes his way through the semi-Elene market that he's been frequenting for months without bothering to mention this slice of his homeland to anyone else (even the precious few Elenes who pass through, who have enough without taking this from him, too), he knows that if he's needed at the castle he's not impossible to find. Unfortunately, he's not impossible to find for anyone else, either, unconcerned as he is.

He's probably not anticipating being interrupted as he disagrees with a vendor about the worth of these pieces, and where they came from in the first place.

Comments

[queenschampion.livejournal.com]

"That was the whole point of drinking," Sparhawk returns, turning to look back over the lake. "I thought it would help."

He can't help but laugh quietly at the idea of Martel checking him for possession.

[errantknights.livejournal.com]

"It's certainly done something." Martel exhales.

[queenschampion.livejournal.com]

Sparhawk is still chuckling faintly. "I think that we could be friends again, brother, now that I've worked out that I'm not going insane for thinking of it in the first place."

He's happy, and pleasantly muzzy still, and quite interested to find out what Martel thinks of his statement.

[errantknights.livejournal.com]

"You know it won't be so easy as that," Martel opts for, feeling slightly peculiar to be the voice of reason in this situation. It's not that he's never the voice of reason, just...not this one, as it were. He takes a cautioning tone, instead of a wary one - but it boils down to the same thing. "There's been too much to trust each other simply because we want to."

[queenschampion.livejournal.com]

Sparhawk sighs, and sounds slightly grumpy when he speaks. "I know. And I'm sure that when this wine wears off, I'll have a hangover worthy of a Troll, and will be asking myself what I was thinking for making myself vulnerable."

He knows that even by admitting that, he's letting Martel know more than he probably should.

[errantknights.livejournal.com]

The wry look on Martel's face has a certain bitter edge to it. "Well," he says, blandly, "if you still think it was a good idea after the hangover's worn off, then we'll talk."

[queenschampion.livejournal.com]

Sparhawk nods as he turns away from the lake, and away from his brother. He can already feel the start of a headache pounding at his temples, and wants to find somewhere dark to sit down, probably with some water.

"Till then, brother," are his final parting words.