Chapter Text
The very air heated and warped around them as the hearthstone’s innate portal folded reality around them, then spat them out into a foggy evening, standing by a weathered corner stone and a crooked garden gate. Smell of fresh moss and dusk-opening moonlilies was heavy in the air. There was a moonwell tucked into the foliage in the far corner of the garden, spirit lights gently illuminating the water’s surface. Directly in front of the gate stood a large tent, its floor covered with rugs and cushions, fairy lights glittering between the beams, a heavy book, teacup and a hookah waiting for whoever left them to return.
And to their left, the last habitable part of the Moonblade estate; what used to be the hunting lodge, now a well loved home: a curved porch, pink and purple roses climbing the pillars framing a heavy oak door, ornate windows gently illuminated from inside by candlelight, purple roof tiles, curved arches and dormers. There were fireflies and wisps floating in the dim light, playing around trees and bushes and night blooming flowers, and fluorescent mushrooms growing out of a hollow log next to a simple wooden bench.
“This is amazing,” Min gasped, taking in the view. He steered her up the porch and through the front door with his arm around her hips.
Heavy front door opened into a cosy little hallway, then further up into a large sitting room, heavy chandelier hanging from a vaulted ceiling, ornate tapestries on the walls, and plenty of space to lounge around on sofas, armchairs and plush carpets strewn with cushions. He pointed to a wide arched opening to their right, leading to what looked like a library or collection display, dark wood gleaming with polish, smell of parchment and arcane ink heavy in the air.
“Through here, that’s the archive and my study, and mine and Jace’s bedrooms upstairs through the study. Then there’s the kitchen and common areas and guest rooms through the left hand side of the lounge,” he explained.
“Your home is so beautiful,” she exhaled, fingers running down a heavy curtain here, along oak bookcase there, over plush upholstery and inviting cushions, and he couldn’t get enough of the look of bright-eyed wonder on her face. She marvelled at his endless rows and stacks of books and scrolls, vitrines and shelves full of knick knacks and random curios, walls adorned with paintings and tapestries, sconces and sparkling chandeliers, arcane lanterns floating dim lights around the study – and then of course the mess that was his desk, and she smiled. It was so him – everything neat and organized to the tiniest detail – and then an explosion of random things cluttering his workspace.
They walked back through the den and into a wide corridor across the room from the study. The corridor opened into a large stairwell at the end, a small bar area with tables and benches tucked underneath the wide staircase. There was a closed ornate door to their right (“Toruviel’s quarters,” Aethril announced) and wide arched opening into a walkway lined with benches and tables on one wall, leading further into the kitchen area. Min couldn’t hold back her excitement any longer as she all but skipped ahead, then stopped in the middle of the bright, airy space, taking it all in. Solid oak floors, worn smooth with centuries of use, low ceilings, a comfortably furnished kitchen and dining area to one side, large pantry on the other, the space opened into a trellised sunroom and an overgrown garden. She could see a flight of stairs chiselled into the rocky outcrop just outside, leading somewhere up the side of the sunroom, and a long forgotten greenhouse frame in the distance. Large, well aged trees already heavy with early summer apples were shrouding the garden edges in comfortable shade.
Her eyes wandered back over the room: arched window over a carved limestone sink, woodfire oven with a large cast iron griddle over the top, a range of gleaming copper pans on the back wall, pretty green and purple cupboards and matching tapestries on the walls – the kitchen felt cozy and decidedly more feminine than what she’d seen of the house so far. I could be happy here. She paused, briefly startled by the stray thought.
She felt his warmth behind her before large arms wrapped around her middle. “Do you like it?” he murmured, lips brushing her ear.
“Such a beautiful kitchen! Am I allowed to… can I cook here sometime? Please, Aeth?” she turned to face him, all excited and eager, and he couldn’t help but pull her close, her giddiness almost infectuous.
“You can do whatever you want,” he muttered and captured her lips in a slow, heated kiss. Her eyes fluttered closed as she softened against him. Hands on her hips, he lifted her and sat her down on the counter right behind them, his hands sliding down to cup her backside, her legs wrapped around his waist, her hands exploring the endless planes of his shoulders and back.
“We will need to go to the village market tomorrow, if you want to cook, there isn’t much here.” he managed to get out in between kisses.
“Moonblade! Where in fel have you – oh, I’m so sorry.”
Aethril sighed as their faces separated, but Min could see the small smile.
“Toruviel, fantastic timing,” he grumbled as he turned around and enveloped the intruder in a bear hug.
“Get off me, you big oaf,” she laughed as she half-heartedly pushed him away, and Min could finally have a good look. Tall, nearly as tall as him, a Kaldorei woman, lean but quite obviously muscular, long purple hair in a tight braid, stern face lit up by a guarded little smile.
“Now it makes more sense, seeing as you’ve not come back… empty handed,” she teased, “Jace stopped by yesterday, then returned to the Fel Hammer, looking for you. No one had any idea where you disappeared to.”
Min slid off the kitchen counter with as much grace as she could muster and smoothed her clothes down.
The tall woman’s eyes fixed on her. “Manners, Moonblade,” she said, and the demon hunter had the grace to look sheepish.
“Lady Minuial Dawnsong,” he offered, gesturing to the still blushing priestess, “This is the Lady Toruviel Thornvale, one of my closest friends.”
“Very pleased to meet you, Lady Thornvale,” Min said, aiming for polite confidence, falling miserably short on the confidence front. The taller Kaldorei looked her up and down, noting the violet flush to her jaw, her downcast eyes, the fingers fidgeting on her tunic hem.
“Toruviel will do. Aren’t you a sweet young thing,” she said with the tiniest sneer – barely there, but Min noticed.
“Toru, can you be nice?” Aeth sighed, but the expression on his face said he wasn’t hoping for much in that department. To his surprise, she bit her lip and then smiled: “I also came back with company. I’d introduce you, but she is still asleep.”
He couldn’t help his eyebrows shooting up. She? There’s a woman in Toruviel’s bed? That’s new, he thought, but kept his mouth shut.
“Anyway – welcome to House Moonblade, Minuial,” she said, “I’m sure we will find some time to talk soon.”
The ornate door at the end of the walkway closed behind her with a click, and Aeth’s hands found Min’s waist again. “Would you like to see the bedroom, my sweet?”