Aftermath, Part 1 - Research

Because Treesong and I always like to jokingly imagine the fanfiction written for our Age of Worms "series," thought I'd take a stab at it, what with character emotions running wild after the last encounter, it seemed like as good a time as any. A little bit more Filge/Talin-heavy than I had intended, but I imagine later installments will be less shippy and more angsty (these being the primary ingredients of good bad fanfic, right?). Also, Motey is pretty much irrepressible, I had no intention of even having him in this scene, but he just kept baring his teeth and hiss-growling at me until I let him in. Enjoy, and if you have any sense of mercy, write your own, so I'm not all alone in my shame. :P

 Talin sat cross-legged atop the velvet covers of Filge's bed in his Diamond Lake tower, seemingly intent upon studying the tomes scattered before her. In reality, however, she was staring blankly down, her unseeing eyes only coincidentally aimed at pages of text; her vision was turned inward, absorbed in her own troubling thoughts. Filge, seated at the cluttered desk across the room, seemed also at first brush to be busy, organizing his many research notes and writings. Upon closer inspection, though, he was mostly shuffling papers from one sloppy pile to another, pausing occasionally to absent-mindedly raise an empty wine goblet to his lips, its contents drained nearly an hour before. He would scowl at the useless vessel, slamming it to the desk in increasing frustration, only to repeat the same action five minutes later.

Only Motey, Filge's tomb mote familiar, seemed to be lively and industrious. He scurried to and fro beside Talin, turning pages, placing bookmarks, even seeming to cross-reference texts. The little creature was known to frequently pantomime human activities in an exaggerated, comedic way, but now it appeared that since the humans were themselves only going through the motions of research, the tomb mote's answer was to take the role of enthusiastic lore-delver upon himself.

 Talin gradually became aware of Motey's movements, and pondered for a time the creature's inscrutable sense of humor. As her attention returned to the outside world, the girl noticed her limbs had become stiff and uncomfortable, and she swung her legs over the side of the bed, stretching. She then hopped down and padded barefoot across the cold stone floor, stopping behind Filge to peer over his shoulder. The necromancer had become engrossed in a scrap of parchment covered in his scrawled handwriting, and he jumped a bit as he noticed Talin's sudden proximity, defensively crumpling the page he had been reading.

"It's okay, babe, I've already read all your terrible, angsty poetry," Talin reassured Filge smilingly, draping her arms over his shoulders and running them down his bare chest. "Or was it one of those 'the fools, I'll destroy them all' diatribes?" She nuzzled behind his earlobe. "Because I think those are cute."

"Yeah, well, they're not always 'cute' so much as 'depraved' or 'sociopathic,'" Filge snapped in an acidic tone, making liberal use of air quotes. "Best not to go mucking about in other people's lives, pet, not if you want to maintain your sunny disposition. Like as not, you'll find something too horrible to forget." He reached up to trace the curve of Talin's cheek with his fingertips, his demeanor visibly softening. "And that would be very, very bad news for me."

Talin sighed. She took issue with numerous aspects of what her lover had just said, but held her tongue. Best to just let it drop for now, she thought; there had been enough in-party fighting today to last a lifetime. Instead, she put a pleasant, slightly apologetic smile upon her face.

"Of course, Filge. Sorry to intrude, I just tend to get interested in things that are of interest to you. I think studying in here is kind of a bust for me, I'm gonna go do the wandering thing for a while. You want anything while I'm out?"

Filge favored the now slightly battered goblet with a particularly sour expression. "More wine."

"Uh, didn't you already ask Kendra to pick some up for you while she was out?"

"Yeh, but if you take half as long as she has, I'll be finished with the next bloody cask long before you come traipsing back in here."

"Fair enough, sweetie." Talin placed her hand on the right side of Filge's face, drawing him closer to her as she dipped in to kiss the base of the man's pale neck. Her thumb traced the outline of Filge's high, prominent cheekbones, as her lips made contact with his skin, and the necromancer gave a shudder of pleasure. He tried to whirl around and pull the curvy cleric into his lap, but he gave an inadvertent growl of warning, and Talin hopped back, just out of reach. "Not right now, babe. Later. I...yeah. I'll be back later." Talin headed towards the bedroom window, under which were her boots.

"With wine."

Talin smiled in tolerant amusement at the petulant tone coming from such a powerful man. "Yes, Filge. With wine." With that, she slid into her boots, pulled herself up onto the windowsill, and was gone, dropping down to the roof of the small shed below with a soft thud. Talin noticed Kendra coming up the path bearing several small parcels, and waved in greeting. She considered going to help, but the warrior-priestess was much stronger than Talin, and seemed to be managing well enough. Talin leapt from the storage building with a practiced ease, landing in a crouch in the grass, then heading away from the tower with barely a break in her stride.

Back in Filge's bedroom, the mage finally took notice of his familiar's activities. He observed the creature flipping back and forth between pages, and scrawling unintelligible "notes" in the margins for a full minute before finally exclaiming, "Motey, what in the Nine Hells d'you think you're doing?"

Motey held up a sharp, crooked finger to indicate "one moment," then produced the notecards he had been given to help facilitate his communication, since he had no inherent means of speaking. Filge scanned the message, narrowing his one good eye in a glare leveled at the small creature. The message read, Motey look book. Learn many thing. Research. Filge try some time. The tomb mote responded to the glare by grinning widely, to the extent that his cobbled-together anatomy allowed for such an expression. "All right, wise guy, I-" Filge broke off, cocking his head. "Hey, I think Kendra's back. Let's go say hello, yeah? Poor bird's nerves are about shot, don't want to wind up on the receiving end of a speech about how we're cowards for not helping her with the groceries." Motey nodded his agreement, and scurried down the winding staircase ahead of his master.

Motey had meant to include another line in his message, but, like Talin, had thought better of it.

The additional cards would have read, Not much time.

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