Private Elevated Episodes: How I Met Your Mother - Jungle Rehash

[Aver Brand]

What do you need?

A question for the ages. Aver needed very little. It was her wants that were the issue. Sometimes for herself – more often for other people.

No, she shook her head, meeting the clear green gaze of her mate with the ice of her own. The Whyren’s had made her limber and warm as much as the kiss and the embrace, but she wouldn’t partake again of the former even when she could go on with the latter.

Perhaps forever, if either of them had that kind of time.

It would’ve been easy to offer offhand filth that always lingered on her tongue. Too easy. This thing between them had been (and was, and would be) many things, but easy wasn’t among them.

Nothing you can do, Aver settled for the truth instead as she pressed their foreheads together. Maybe… help me finish up? Her eyes flickered to the counter, where the last dish sat in pieces on the cutting board.

Her lungs expanded with a deep breath that she let out on a sigh. I want to do well.

As always, it was wanting that was the root of all trouble for Ygdris Val.

 

[Quietus]

Help me finish up?

Quietus ran her hands smoothly across Aver's back, reassuring as much as it was anything else, Of course. She'd made it perfectly clear from the onset, once Aver had agreed to the challenge and complications that being what they were entailed, that she would always help her if she needed it.

She only ever had to ask.

Sometimes she didn't even need to do that, but Quietus preferred to answer a willing request and not act against her wishes. Helping people who didn't want to be helped had a tendency of only making things more difficult. The last thing they needed between them was further difficulty. How many years had it taken to break through to the point where Aver admitting her shortcomings and asking for help was no longer a fight or a struggle? She couldn't honestly recall, but hearing the words I want to do well made everything worth it.

Another squeeze, a hand drifted from her back up to her chin, tipping her to look squarely at those greens, I am glad. She leaned up and planted another kiss on her mate's cheek before untangling herself and heading over to the final ingredients.

Where's that new marinade you found at the market...

 

[Aver Brand]

Her face was quick to morph back into a scowl.

“I didn’t find it,” she protested as they abandoned the close embrace, “I collected the ingredients, and then mixed it and let the meat steep in it.” Her mouth curled into something that might’ve been a pout on someone else.

For Aver, cooking was a point of pride without peer.

“And you know that,” she said, stabbing her mate in the chest with an accusatory finger. As their years together turned to decades, Aver was beginning to suspect Qui was never going to tire of ruffling her feathers. ‘Twas a woeful lot that fate had seen fit to bequeath her.

The lady truly doth protest too much.

Taking her station behind the counter once more, the mercenary assaulted the vegetables without mercy. “You,” without looking up, Aver wagged the knife at her wife, “can take your sass to the fridge and check on the dessert.”

 

[Quietus]

The smugness growing about the woman was palpable. Quietus scooted off to the fridge as ordered but definitely left some of the sass behind.


Some time later the echoing chime of the doorbell tolled through the halls. Barefoot, a hand-woven shawl loosely wrapped over her shoulders, Desdemona padded over to greet Aver's mother at the door with a wane smile and widening eyes. The familial resemblance was, in fact, uncanny.

Lenda's bright eyes looked in with a faint curiosity at the woman and tethered marvel at the ... cushy location, "Uhm ... Lenda Thiir. I'm here to meet with Aver Brand? Do ... do I have the right location?"

The blonde's smile widened somewhat and she nodded with a low, "Yes. Come in."

It had been a conscious decision on her part that she wished to speak verbally with Aver's mother. The opportunity to get to meet and know the woman wasn't something she wanted to muddle with potentially and permanently scarring her mind for life through telepathy.

"I am Desdemona, Aver's ... wife." The word tasted funny in her mouth and rolled around like a marble on her tongue.

"Oh," Lenda blinked at her and gave her a short, studying look up and down, "surprised. You're not what I expected."

A bold statement, said without stutter or a blink. Uncanny indeed. Des smirked and nodded into the household, leading her toward the kitchen, "I'm not what Aver expected either."

 

[Aver Brand]

The sounds of soft, halting conversation drifted from the entrance of the penthouse. Aver closed her eyes, grasping the edge of a chair against the uncomfortable pressure behind her ribs.

How the fuck was she fucking nervous?

And what fucking for?

She’d sat down for dinner with people much worse and dangerous than the one poised to join them now. She’d faced down Jedi and Sith and armies, so what fucking business did this one insignificant waitress have knotting up her insides?

Aver scowled at the table, then tore her gaze away in time to meet the eyes of Lenda Thiir as her mate escorted her into the room.

The third time in her life that she would keep company with her mother, and it had hardly improved since the first. If anything, it was worse.

When she’d gone to kill her father, she’d been wielding visceral vengeance, had charted out a definite plan, had set out the words to speak; when she’d gone to mock her brother, she did so from her throne in a steakhouse backroom as the ruler of her underworld.

But here, now, she was just a daughter brought her girl home to meet the parents.

Well. Parent.

“Welcome.” Her mouth twisted to the side, a faint smile they would know to read very differently. “Get you a drink?”

 

[Quietus]

Lenda came to a halt at the large open space that passed for an entrance into the kitchen. Everything in this place echoed like a high school gym ... studio condominium. She recognized the taste of it from her youth and prior jaunts in the bed of ... well, he didn't deserve the memory, really. She swallowed - a reflex of her own anxiety. Any time she'd been in the presence of this woman, her daughter, strangely wonderful things had happened.

Proof that at the very least, one of her twin girls had survived against every single odd there could possibly be.

Vengeance on the man that had ruined her only chance at happiness in her life. Thrice.

A reunion with the son she'd thought she'd lost to the unforgiving streets of Nadir.

For whatever reason, she didn't fear Aver Brand. Not one bit. And she didn't know why, but she did know that she should. The anxiety was more due to how under dressed she felt. Lenda gently cleared her throat, passing a short gaze around, and nodded a hello back to Aver, "Thank you. Yes, ah- wine will do. White, if you have it."

The smallest of smiles appeared fleetingly on Qui's face. White wine. Good guess.

"I brought dessert," Lenda held up a white pie box, "lemon meringue. Made it today. If you've a spot in the fridge for it?"

Qui reached to take it from her, "I'll get the wine," and eyed Aver gently before she stepped over into the kitchen area.

"This is lovely," Lenda took a few more steps in toward Aver. Even with the verbal pleasantries, her own expression was rather immutable, "you've done very well for yourself." She looked around a bit more, nodding, and sighed, "I'm glad."

 

[Aver Brand]

As Qui drifted off with the pie and a promise of libations, Aver nearly growled in frustration. Tactically deprived of something to busy herself with, she was left fidgeting and awkward in front of her mother and her open gaze. Damn her clever mate.

Bound though they were by blood, the dinner table might as well have been the chasm of decades that separated them.

Aver sighed and consciously untangled the taut line of her spine. Her time of standing on attention was long in the past. No need for posturing in her present company, anyway.

Honesty, though… that would take some effort.

“This isn’t exactly,” she wrinkled her nose, “mine. The place, I mean.”

Not that she hadn’t thought to remedy that in the past few hours as they’d puttered about the penthouse. It was certainly more comfortable and spacious than her old flat in the Nest.

“But… thanks.”

Couldn’t beat the view either.

Or the absence of painful memories.

“So.” Aver cleared her throat, stuffed her hands in her jeans, and jerked her chin towards the terrace. “Join me for a smoke?”

 

[Quietus]

"Oh," Lenda said, with a distinct lack of emotional attachment to the word, gaze wandering as she wondered just how much it took to rent such a place. Her own meager home was likely not even a fraction of the cost of this. The offer of a smoke brought her easily from the wonder, "Lead the way."

Quietus followed the pair from the kitchen area with her eyes, deciding to hang back and take her sweet old time finding an appropriate glass for Lenda's wine.

"I smoked a lot when I was young," said the woman as they took up position on the terrace, offering the ... was it a story or was it information? The way she presented it seemed too point-in-fact for a story, but a bit on the nose for just facts. Conversation, she was trying to make conversation.

"Stopped when I found out I was pregnant. Turns out it doesn't make much difference when you're ... well, you know, what we are," she gave a mild shrug, brows pinching together for a moment, "but I never really picked up the habit again after that, so I'll need to bum one off you."

 

[Aver Brand]

She gave a light snort and reached into the inside pocket of the suit, producing a slim black packet. It oozed quiet luxury, like the rest of her getup. The sharp lines of her suit wrinkled as she leaned forward to pinch a cigarette with her teeth.

“I don’t do it… too often,” Aver muttered, shrugging a single shoulder as she offered up the packet to the woman who would be her mother.

Lighting up was as good an excuse as any to try and think of a way through the stilted conversation. Her eyes wandered off Lenda and across the veranda fence, taking in the burning skyline through the bulletproof transparisteel.

She’d not felt so disarmed by any one person in her long life.

So, like the blunt instrument she was – “Why’d you keep me? Us?” Her eyebrows did a little dance as she managed to smooth out a frown. “Y’know. Considerin’ what kinda cunt he was.”

 

[Quietus]

The woman's eyes widened briefly at the tiny folded box of luxury passed to her like it was a stale loaf of bread. She handled it with the same care she handled a kitchen knife, gently plying a cigarette from inside and setting the box on the railing. Her cheeks hollowed as she lit up, giving no sense of the luxury afforded - she sputtered and coughed on the first pull.

"Oh..." kaf kaf, Lenda blinked at the habit in her fingers, cleared her throat and pulled again, "that's nice."

Couldn't remember the last time she said that about a cigarette. Probably when she was bedding Aver's father.

The blunt question did little to ruffle her, much as it might have other people. She eyed Aver for a moment with consideration, her mind mentally tracking her memory of Emryc's appearance and noting just how greatly their father had actually influenced them. Tall. So very, very tall. Aver had his broad shoulders, too, but she had her refined face. Lucky that.

"Always wanted to be a mother, never thought the opportunity to do it would ever really present itself. A few good things came out of meeting Beirric; I found my way out of the brothel into a steady job doing what I like at the dinner; I was able to pay off my debts and buy my own home; and I became a mother. The thought of giving you and your sister up never once crossed my mind. I never thought I had to, Beirric thought otherwise."

 

[Aver Brand]

Aver tipped her head until the tips of her long red hair were cascading halfway down her back. The first plume out her mouth bloomed into a widening circle of smoke; the second exhale chased it down shaped as a starship, dissolving into a blue cloud as it hit the windowpane.

“How d’you reckon we’d’ve turned out if we didn’t got sold?”

Her eyes didn’t stray back down to those too much like her own, focussed instead on the interplay of fire at the zenith of the hollowed-out comet.

 

[Quietus]

Lenda offered a hiccup of an amused laugh, "Who knows," she shook her head, looked over at Aver again, "probably a bit skinnier. Good imported protein sells at a premium."

Referring, of course, to Aver's rock-solid physique that even her nicely tailored outfit couldn't hide.

"I don't like to think too much on backward what-ifs. They can drive a person mad."

 

[Aver Brand]

“Sure can.”

She gave a thoughtful nod, finally turning around to look at the smaller woman. The bright red halo of Nadir and its perpetual night flared behind that rock-solid, be-suited physique, her smile nearly disappearing in the shadows.

“But… you wonder.” Aver pursed her lips, the cherry of the cigarette drawing a figure eight. “Meetin’ your maker and all.”

 

[Quietus]

"I like to think what we could have had would have been nice," Lenda replied soberly, watching more of Beirric show through as her daughter loomed in the shadow. An easy expression, not quite a smile, shifted across her face. "It wouldn't have been without its challenges and pain. Not here. Not on Nadir," she drew slowly on her cigarette and loosed the smoke over a sigh, "but it would have been nice."

Lenda nodded her head.

Quietus stepped out onto the veranda, glass of wine in one hand and offered it to their guest. A calm sort of delight animated her features as she sunk back to Aver's side, gently nudging her with her hip to shift her out of her dramatic, looming stance. She smiled, pleased with herself for breaking the strain of the atmosphere.

"But maybe it was better this way," Lenda mused lightly at the sight of the two women, "maybe I would have been a terrible mother. Who knows, who knows. Do you have children?"

"We do not," Quietus replied, "but I do from other mates. Several, actually, and grandchildren. Aver enjoys a nominal Aunt status with them."

"And do you supposed you are a good mother?" Lenda sipped the wine and made an appreciative sound at the taste.

Smirking to herself, Quietus glanced up at Aver, "How would someone like yourself categorize throwing your child off a cliff?"

That got more of a response out of Lenda, who raised her brows and blinked at the question, "Well ... you've clearly not been convicted, so I must believe it was a teachable moment."

 

[Aver Brand]

The instant she was hipchecked by her mate, Aver’s tense posture collapsed. She let her eyes close for a moment as she leaned into the familiar, comfortable warmth at her side.

“Do you have children?”

Aver snorted, twin trails of smoke rolling out her mouth as she turned her gaze skyward in amusement.

This gon’ be good.

And it was. Qui dropped the bomb off the cuff, smirking her best at everyone on the verandah like the cat who got the canary.

“Oh, I’d pay to see someone try.” Aver joined in on the smuggery. “Front row tickets.”

She ashed her cigarette, glancing fondly at the blonde. “But don’t believe it for a second, that. She just enjoys throwing people off cliffs.” Aver bounced her eyebrows at Lenda. “Lucky we’ve got a fence here.”

 

[Quietus]

Lenda seemed to be at a loss for words in regards to the notion of being tossed off the balcony just for funsies. Especially when Aver's mate made no effort to refute the accusation.

"I try to target those who stand a chance of surviving the fall."

"And what do you do with those who don't?" Lenda asked.

"Practice new and creative ways of removing unwanted company from my presence."

"That's a.... very peculiar hobby."

"They tend to become that at my age."

What a response. Lenda peered at her curiously, head canting to one side, "I want to say ... Umbaran, but I don't recall them living much longer than normal humans."

"I wouldn't worry too much about it, my kind isn't very prevalent beyond the home planet."

"Then ... how is it you two met?"

 

[Aver Brand]

The cigarette was quashed against the side of the fence, giving up the ghost with a quiet hiss.

Aver pursed her lips and clicked her tongue.

“Iiiiii reckon that’s one to take over the appetizers.”

Without waiting on either of the women, she swept back inside, into the safety of the kitchen and the comfortable weight of a knife in her hand.

By the time Qui and Lenda rejoined her, Aver already had the plates laid out, steaming with rare meat and a colorful vegetable accompaniment.

Taking a seat, Aver steepled her fingers and smiled across the table.

“We met,” she speared a neat cube of Colo claw fish, “when I came to conquer her planet,” and popped it into her mouth.

 

[Quietus]

Lenda and Quietus lingered out on the balcony for only a few minutes more while the elder Brand ... Thiir... Aver's mother finished her cigarette. Qui made a sidetrip to the bar to take up the tray of drinks before finding her seat at the table next to Aver.

Uncertainty etched its way into the crease between Lenda's brows pinched together at Aver's words. She fell flat on any sort of response, but the mild air of confusion was evident to Quietus.

"Aver," she began while pouring her mate a fresh tumbler of booze, "was a prominent figurehead of a galactic faction some decades ago. And I was the same ... similar. I once stood as the leader of the Beast Tribes of Onderon."

Lenda squinted her eyes, seemingly having a hard time either believing or understanding, "I'm not much learned on the goings-on of the galaxy beyond Nadir. Fraid I've never heard of Onderon."

"There aren't many who exist outside of the great galactic game of chess who have."

Lenda nodded and sighed, taking up fork and knife to cut into her meal, "And was your invasion a success?"

Quietus took her seat finally, wry expression forming on her face as she, too, cut into her own food.

 

[Aver Brand]

Content to focus on the first dish and the brimming tumbler of Whyren’s, Aver merely listened as her mate filled in the gaps in her response. The tone remained much the same, though – elusive bordering on cheeky.

She tipped the whisky back and swallowed a healthy swig as she met Lenda’s eyes.

“Operationally, yes. Of course, my… boss at the time wasn’t exactly happy with the,” she wrinkled her nose, “path I’d picked, but I’d done what was required, so…” Her broad shoulders shifted under the smooth lines of her suit as she shrugged. “Qui— Des keepin’ her cool saved us all a lot of hassle.”

To say nothing of the death toll of the alternative. Aver cocked her head with a faint smile as she set the cutlery onto her empty plate.

“I secured the best possible outcome.” Her eyes crinkled at the corners as she glanced at Qui. “An’ I got me a little souvenir to go with it too.”

“It’s what… it’s how this whole thing started.” She set her glass down and smiled at her mother. “Des bein’ all clever on me.”

 

[Quietus]

"Honestly I think I got the better end of the bargain," Qui mused over a piece of steak, nonchalant, "I barely had to lift a finger."

Lenda felt her lips purse in growing amusement. She was beginning to see the puppet strings at play between the two. Could recognize the buttons being pushed, the lines being tip-toed. It was a playful sort of dance she didn't often see between couples. Taking a moment to eat a few more bites of her meal, "And how long ago was that?"

"Ohhh, 30 years or so I think?" Qui leaned back in her seat, propping her legs up on the chair across from her under the table.

"Thir-thirty years?" Lenda wasn't exceptionally book-smart, but she could do basic arithmetic, "uhm, didn't you say you have grandchildren?"

"Yes," Qui nodded, "four of them. ...that I know of. Netherworld knows if any of my fresher seeds have popped out their own recently."

Lenda sputtered over a sip of wine, "I'm sorry ... but how old are you, exactly?"

Jungles met glaciers for a brief moment, "I actually lost track. I don't know exactly how old I am. But if you take the age you think I look, double it, then add a zero to the end, you might be pretty close."