Poison Pals 3 0109.24

Crowe blinks awake, and again, has to reacquaint himself with where he is, and what is going on. He recognizes the cabin, and the warmth is delicious. He looked around the dark cabin, seeing the sun is not yet up yet, but he is. Well, his bladder is. As he goes to slip out of bed, he finds himself entangled fully in your limbs. Again, this does not seem to weird, and he carefully slips out of your embrace, and steps out onto the floor. "Oh Damn it's cold!" he whispers, breath hanging in the air. He looks around and spying your trunk of clothes, he rummages through it, selecting a shirt that falls to his knees, and a pair of too long pants to pull on for the time being. Where DID his pants get to last night anyway?? He moves to the fire, and stokes it up again, then checks his brioche, and THEN, finds a window he can get to to leak out the window with before quickly shutting it again. When you wake, the cabin is lit with weak sunlight, and filled with the smell of cinnamon, and spices.

Ythrien murmurs distressedly, arm feeling about the bed in sleep. "Mnnn... Where are you? S'cold without you..." Does he mean you, truly, or someone in his dream. It's hard to know. He just keeps searching the bed, trying to find whatever he's looking for.

Crowe looks over at you, he is in the middle of something, and smiles. "Be right there..." he says in a soft voice, it could almost sound feminine to the sleepy or addled ear. He puts the finishing touches on the surprise he has made for you, then puts the kettle on the fire to heat water for the tea. Shivering a bit, and tummy growling, he skips back to the bed, and slips in next to you, resuming his snuggle position close to you. "I have a surprise for you Ythrien..." he whispers as he rolls onto his back, and looks over at you.

Ythrien murmurs a warm and happy sort of sound and rests a hand across your chest. "That's good to know, love.", he says softly in sleep. Then you feel his hand pass over a pectoral, feeling suddenly for something that just isn't there. He starts to frown, patting that pec, but no, there's no breast there, not a female one, anyway. This causes him to wake with a start and cry, "Shards!", in surprise, jumping so far back he falls out of bed onto his back! "OOF!"

Crowe sits up in the bed, eyes wide, "Love?" he mutters, with a completely flummoxed look on his face. He looks over at you and your sprawled form on the floor, and grins at you. "Did you sleep well?" he asks, then points to the table where a dozen of the most beautiful cinnamon rolls with glaze await you. "I made those for breakfast, the kettle is on for tea..." he says, slipping out of bed to get to making it.

Ythrien scowls at you and barks, "I'll have you know I was dreaming about _Mara_!" A man who had previously not been shy at all now grabs a fur and wraps it around his midsection to hide his delicate parts from you. When he's sure you're not paying him any attention, he drops the fur quickly to find some clothes, getting out a particularly warm set of trews and a thick, long sleeve shirt. Ahh. Much better. He then turns, sniff sniffing the air, and you can see him lick his lips. "You made those?", he queries, stepping over to where they rest, still piping hot and fresh.

Crowe looks up at you shyly, the worried orphan look in his eyes again. Slowly he nods. "Aye cap... I mean... yes. I hope you like that sort of thing..." he says as he add the leaves to the water and a few other spices to make a blend that will perfectly accompany the cinnamon rolls. "Tea?" he asks quietly, bringing the pot and a pad for it to the table.

Ythrien smiles, nodding. His woodworking skills leave some to be desired, no scrolling, no fancy trim work, but they're very sturdy and not entirely ugly. The table is good enough to seat four, though he only has two chairs. "Smells delish.", he quips rather relaxedly, grabbing a roll. He then bites into it, getting the glaze on his lips and hands. "Mm!", he exclaims, mouth still full. "Deeze are good!" So he's not _completely_ well-mannered. Ah well. At least he loves your cooking.

Crowe cracks a smile and sets down at the table, prepping mugs of tea for two. "I uh... borrowed a pair of pants and a shirt. I hope that's OK." he says meekly. "I will wash them when I can, I know I reek, but mine.... well, the shirt was a hazard when I cooked, and I seem to have LOST my pants..." he says idly as he grabs one of the rolls, an devours it in record time. Followed by another, and another, and then a mug of tea. He is an eating machine.

Ythrien grins, looking you over. "My clothes swallow you up. Hafta buy you stuff that _fits_, or alter some of _mine_. Heh." Reminded of your scent, he inhales again, eyes closing. A light shiver overtakes him, but it's not from the cold. He then murmurs to himself, "Stop that, ya freak.", chiding himself.

Crowe looks over at you, hearing you talk about clothes, boring, then the last comment about stopping something. "Stop what?" he asks, pouring more tea for the both of you, and grabbing another roll. "Did I snore or something last night?" he looks at you, wide green eyes all innocence and fear of angering you. So far he hasn't gotten beat, and he'd like to keep it that way, although, that doesn't seem your style.

Ythrien sees the hurt in you, how you readily flinch, and he reaches out slowly and gently to place a hand on yours, stroking it softly. "Hey. It's OK. I'm not like those sons of bitches who abused you. I'm an asshole, sure, but I'm not gonna lay a hand on ya, OK? Shhh. It's OK." How convenient he glossed over his earlier comment, as well.

Crowe looks up at you, and wiggles his fingers under your hand. "I can see that Captain." he says softly. He looks deep into your eyes. "It shows in your eyes Ythrien, a lot of things show in your eyes." he says with a weak smile, then he looks down and devours another cinnamon roll. They are going fast folks!

Ythrien smirks, rather liking his new nickname of "Captain", though he wonders where it comes from. "I suppose so, Red. I suppose so." He seems content to let you eat more of the share, just eating his idly. There's a change in him, sitting more comfortably, more relaxed, and he drinks his tea quietly, looking to the windows now covered with snow but for an inch at the top where light can crack through. "We're gonna be snowed in for awhile. Good thing I went on a food run not long ago. My larder's pretty full." He then looks to the dwindling wood pile. "Though I'll have to dig out the wood stacked on my porch. That'll be a fun job.", he snorts, crossing one arm over his chest to tuck his hand under his armpit for warmth. The tea mug warms his other hand.

Crowe looks over at you, "I can cook leaner rations," he offers. "I just wanted to make something special to say... thanks. " he says with a soft smile. "I haven't been.. made to feel this welcome in a long time." he concludes then pours more tea for the both of you. He take a long sip of his, then looks out the window, then back at you. "Can I help at all? With the wood I mean." he asks quietly.

Ythrien shakes his head. "Nah. Can't risk you gettin' cold. You're not so fat as old me, so don't hold in warmth well." He pats himself at his comment, though if his form is his idea of fat, gods be afraid of how thin he might be if he were at whatever his "ideal weight" is! "I'll go for the wood later. I'm still cold, and my ears burn somethin' awful." He then frowns. "Almost lost `em to cold." No elf wants to lose their ears, as it's what marks them as who they are. "Mara once knitted me ear warmers, but I thought they looked stupid at the time, and never wore them. Dunno what happened to `em, now."

Crowe leans on the table, looking up at you with rapt attention, "Who was Mara?" he asks softly, cautiously, and you may or may not be able to tell he is prepped to duck or flee if the need arises. He breaks off another of the rolls, and sets it down in front of you. "Here, you eat. The sugar will help with energy." he says.

Ythrien half-closes his eyes, giving a soft, defeated sigh. "She and I were tight, once. I was a crazy bastitch in my younger years, and she was this wild elf chick I met while on a job. Seems by day, she was daddy's little girl. By night, she would dress up in tight leather and slip out her window, goin' on the prowl. I bumped into her while attempting to rob her house. She liked my style, so we both robbed it together, then set it up to look like she had been kidnapped. They used very subtle magic to try to find us, but I knew better, and we took off on a sea cruiser for Califar. That place is a real hole in the ground, the best of the worst living there. As such, it has strong magick shielding it. We were crazy, she and I. We caused hell everywhere we went and god..." He now gets wistful. "We fucked like rabbits. She used woman's magic to ensure we never got pregnant. She said she hated kids. Sad, really. I always imagined some little elf bastard with my name running around makin' the same hell I did when I was a sprout." He gives a long sigh and picks up the roll you grabbed for him, taking a bite and chewing thoughtfully.

Crowe listens to you quietly, smiling softly as some parts of the story, frowning at others. "The sea..." he muses softly, then blinks out of that dream, and looks over at you, "But.... something happened I guess, because... She's not here anymore." he inwardly slaps himself for prying, then adds. "You don't have to tell me Captain. It's not my business." he says, giving your hand a soft squeeze of comfort, and then rises from the table, clearing away the breakfast.

Ythrien kicks back his chair a bit on the back two legs, rocking gently as he sips his tea, eyes focussed on the fire. "Yeah. She ditched me for this other guy. Just one day was gone, leaving me a note on our bed. Took her shit and left. I've seen her once, about a year ago, and asked how she was doing. She had settled down and was fat with a kid. Funny, that. She and husbass were living the dream life, it seems. She told me she just couldn't go on living the wild life like I did, that she wanted to settle down." He now makes a sour smirk and humph. "Had she _told_ me that, I woulda built a whole damned _castle_ for her." He then tosses back the last of his tea. "Life sucks like that, though." Setting his mug down, his whole demeanor has changed, growing bitter, cold. "Maybe I'll dig out that firewood now. What the fuck _else_ am I gonna do?" He looks over to you an his eyes show a different look entirely, of a man who just doesn't give a shit anymore, ready for death to tumble down on him, squashing him. He then gets up and makes for the front door, getting ready to open it once more.

Crowe gets up from the table, and clears away the rest of any mess he may have made. "You need to dress warmer than that..." he points out, as he goes and gathers your wet clothes from the day before, and arranges them in front of the fire on the backs of chairs to dry. He looks around and finds it, then takes it to you. "But... your ears..." he says, pausing and biting his lower lip. "Maybe put some socks on them?" he offers shyly.

Ythrien gives a grim little grin and ruffles your hair affectionately. "It doesn't matter, really. Just vanities." He then says in a very quiet, very solemn tone, eerily so. "You look after the place, OK? I built it really well, so should last you a long time. My money's in the unlabeled white jar in the larder on the west wall. And don't forget the loot should take care of you for awhile." He then turns and starts for the door again.

You don't get far because you are grabbed around the waist, TIGHTLY by Crowe. "No! don't say that! Don't talk like that! I can't bear it!" he says, pressing his face into your back. "Let me go out, let's chop up chairs, anything but having you go out again into that white hell." he blurts out in a rush, then goes silent. He still does not let go of you however, seeming to say if you go, you will have to drag him with you.

Ythrien is suddenly surprised, arms rising up as you wrap yourself around him. "Whoa, there, Red! What's all this about? I saved your scrawny ass, but that doesn't make me _special_. I'm just a rough old asshole, no better than when Mara left me. So don't waste what little brains you have getting _attached_ to me. You should be _glad_." Then with a dark chuckle and smirk, he says, "Then all this, my palatial dwelling, my rich and exotic decorations, all of it can be yours."

Crowe is silent for a moment, then suddenly is gone, the slam of the trap door tells you that he has gone into the larder. It seems this is his safe hole of refuge. You notice he did not leave the door open and had no light, and so it must be powerfully dark down there.

Ythrien scratches his head as you run off, then turns, stalking silently over to the trap door and kneeling beside it. "Hey down there.", he calls. "You'll freeze if you don't come back up, Red." He then waits to see if you answer.

A voice calls up from the dark, "I WON'T freeze!" he yells back with all the impertinence of a stubborn child. "I'm... I'm.... checking the eggs..." he says, then goes quiet again. There is a rustling around down there, but no more speech.

Ythrien smirks, scratching his chin, then starts to pry up the trap door, light peeping in. "I think I better come help you do that. You don't know how I've got things organized down there." A patent lie, but good enough for you, he figures.

Crowe is sitting down on a stool face in his hands, and he does not move from that position until you come down to join him. He sneaks a look over at you, then back down. "I can find it on my own..." he growls. Those eyes of his looked awfully red, and he is in fact already shivering from the dampness of the cold air down here. "Go ahead... Go get the wood..." he sniffs.

Ythrien grabs the prop and tucks it under the door so it stays up, then climbs down the small ladder. "C'mon, Red. Don't be like this. You're cold again, see? I'll have to throw you over my shoulder and hoist you up the ladder at this rate, just so you'll get warm by the fire."

Crowe grumbles under his breath, "My name's not RED...." he says in a very assertive voice, he is really edged now, and continues to chatter when not speaking with you. "It's Malachite." he hisses, then draws his legs up to his chest and wraps his arms around them, resting his forehead on his knees. "Go... g-get the wood. I will be f-fine." he stammers with the cold as it wraps around his body.

Ythrien sighs and gets down on his knees in front of you, now. He then starts to peel his extra-warm fleecy shirt off, holding it out to you. "Look. If you want to be alone, fine. But put this on. It's upsetting to think of you freezing. Really it is." His own body seems not to shiver, but he's suppressing it, so as not to alarm you. He's more intent on you. "I can go up into the cabin and just wait if you need some space. But please don't let yourself get cold." He then asks in the softest, most confusingly worried voice yet, seeming to really care about you. "Please?"

Crowe slowly looks up at you, his green eyes rimmed in red, and he looks quiet flushed, his face is wet, despite the cold, and his shivering is getting worse. "I wa-want to go to bed..." he says, then slumps down forward onto you. He manages to wrap his arms around your shoulder, but nothing more. It seems the cold has finally caught up with him, and a fever is raging inside of him.

Ythrien feels your forehead and gasps hard, crying out, "Malachite!", trying to get your attention. This isn't good. "Shard it!", he exclaims, then scoops you up, laying you gently over his shoulder, laying his shirt atop you. "C'mon, Malachite. Stay with me, now." Then, he climbs up, kicking the prop out of the way so the door falls shut. He then rushes you over to the bed and lays you down in it, covering you up. "Shards. I have no idea what to do, Red. None at all." He turns and gets the wash basin full of water and makes sure the water is clean. He then gets some snow from by the front door and drops it into the water to chill it. That done, he gets a rag, soaks it, and then folds it up after squeezing it out, and lays it atop your forehead to help against the fever. "Please, Red. Don't let go. I'm here. I'll _always_ be here. Just hang on for me." He now takes your hand and wraps both of his around it, lifting it to his cheek and shutting his eyes.

Crowe lifts a hand to lay across his eyes, and slowly he looks up at you, "I don't think I will be able to cook supper..." he mumbles... then closes his eyes. "I just want to sleep..." he says, then shivers again. He licks his lips, and whispers, "Just some water... Please." he says in a whisper.

Ythrien smoothes back your bangs and says softly, "Shhh... I'll get you water. Don't worry about dinner. I could cook before you showed up. I'll be fine. Just rest." He then gets up and gets a mug, dipping it into the basin for cool, fresh water. "Here. Let me help you, Red." He then reaches up under your head and lifts it gently, bringing the mug to your lips. "Drink slowly. You don't want to choke."

Crowe lifts his little hands up to cover yours as he drinks, and he drinks long, until the cup is empty. He looks at you with weak eyes, and sighs. "I just need to sleep..." he says, then lays back down. His eyelids flutter shut, and he rolls onto his side. "Wake me when it's time to put to sea Captain.." he mumbles. Yeah, he's slightly delirious. "I want to set the main sail..."

Ythrien leans in, worried, and whispers, "You'll be the first on deck, first mate. I swear it." He jumps back down in his larder and comes up with a special box, hidden far in the back where you couldn't have seen it. When he opens it, the inside glows, brilliant gold dust within. He takes a pinch of it out and over to the tea pot, sprinkling it in. For a moment, the tea glows, then dies down, and as Ythrien closes the box, he murmurs, "Not much left. Hope it still works.", and he turns to you, sighing as he looks on in deep worry. He sets the box on the mantle, no longer caring to hide it, and he comes to the bed, disrobing. He then climbs around behind you into bed, careful not to jostle you too much, and curls around you delicately, trying not to surprise or wake you. Once curled about you, his arm grasps over you, tugging you into him, and he lays his face into the back of the top of your shoulder, inhaling your elf scent deeply. This causes him to sigh warmly, and he rubs his nose tip along the top of your shoulder softly, whispering, "Please, Red. Don't leave me alone. I thought I was fine alone, but then _you_ came, and now everything's upside-down. Just.." His eyes close and he shudders with a lump in his throat. "Don't leave me alone."

Crowe feels the warmth of your body against his and instinctively, he draws closer, his body is afire with the fever, and feels like a hot water bottle on you. He nuzzles close to you, settling into your embrace. He mutters something here and there, but never opens his mouth enough for the words to be understood, a word here and there makes it out, then they stop, his breathing deepens, and slows as he falls into a deep sleep. A smile crosses his lips as he dreams, of you, the ship and the sea.

Ythrien lays with you as long as you sleep, getting up to get you more cool water for your compress or checking the tea. He even pauses to whizz through a window, coming back with a hard shiver as he got snow on him. As time passes, he gets up and gets the now magical tea and helps you sip it, however conscious you are or not. The brew warms the colder parts of you and cools the too-hot parts of you, trying to reach an equilibrium for your body, but the rest is up to your willpower, if you choose to live or die.

Crowe wakes up several hours later, and quite wobbly, he tries to sit up, and looks around. He swallows, throat dry, and blinks then wipes at his eyes. "How... how... are you doing?" he asks, then looking around spots you in the bed next to him and smiles weakly. "What time is it?" he asks, obviously still loopy, but getting better. His color is improving and as he looks at you his stomach growls fiercely.

"I thought you weren't going to make it, Malachite. You had me so worried." Ythrien says "I don't know what time it is. The snow's covered the windows completely, now. We've only got firelight to guide us."

Crowe looks over at you, and sinks back into your warm embrace. He looks up at you for a long time, then blushing he looks away.

Ythrien says, "We'll get you fed and some more of my magic tea in you, then we'll both lay down to rest more. Come when we wake, I'll try to dig us out, Red. OK?"

Crowe nods as you lay out the plans for the both of you, and after sipping more of the tea, and a light dinner, he curls up in your arms, and sleeps deeply, and restfully.