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[Alcuin is sitting at his console with a thoughtful look on his face. It's been long enough that he's settled in and now he has concerns beyond the absolutely necessary- and the money to take care of them.]

Are there any in the city who have a marquist's skill? The circumstances of my arrival left my marque in need of tending, and I now have the coin to pay for it- if none of those who have been brought here know it, I will look among the kedan, but I thought I would try my fellow exiles to begin with.

[He smiles.] If you know of anyone, pray tell me. I would be grateful indeed.

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Thank you. It's a custom of my people.

[ Ah, he nods, seemingly pleased with that. He'd had a suspicion upon seeing him, but no confirmation. As he wouldn't be touching a human with a seven foot pole. ] Very well. I can help. Though I'll need to find the tools. [ They do it the ghetto way - sharp needle and ink ]

Mine likewise.

[He smiles a little. It's kind of a lie- d'Angelines are mostly human- but he's a good liar.]

You're very kind, but I've found someone to assist- you needn't go to any trouble. [As much as he hates to turn down an offer, he did already make arrangements.]

I must have you tell me of your people some time.

[ He likes getting notes on cultures. A people are shaped by their history and traditions, something he holds strongly to. ]

I see. The offer stands if you require it later.

It would be my pleasure. [He has told a lot of people about d'Angeline culture, but he doesn't mind telling more.]

Thank you. I'm hoping not to run into any more blades, though. [There's more than a hint of extremely wry humour there.]

[ a quiet chuckle. HE CAN SMILE ON OCCASION. ] Usually not the wisest of choices. How had you managed this one?

[So he didn't misjudge his humour. Good to know.] I would have avoided it if I could.

[He hesitates, then forces himself to answer. If he talks about it, maybe it will become less powerful?] It was a surprise attack on our home. Some thirty men, against my lover and I and our servants who had never even lifted a weapon.

[ Oh. That's sad. 8( but things that involved getting stabbed usually are. And he's heard of massacres like that happening plenty of times before. The Northern Kingdoms are hardly peaceful, least of all for elves. ]

My sympathies. Did you have any survivors? [ This is the land between life and death after all ]

Not of those who were in the house. My foster-sister and her guard lived because they had gone- they returned only after the soldiers had left.

[But before he died. At least he knew they survived, though his countrywoman here had also told him... he remembered it, though, dying in Phedre's arms.]

Squass'me. [ 'Forgive me'. It's noted that neither he or his lover were mentioned in that. Ah. ] Do you know the reason for the attack?

Nothing to forgive. [His voice is getting progressively softer, though he doesn't realize it.] I do now. We did not then- it was... quite a shock.

[ Either way, bringing back up painful memories is never easy, and he feels a little intrusive for asking. ] A tragedy, regardless. I doubt knowing a reason heals much.

No, not greatly. Especially when the reason turns out to be one you thought was a friend. [He sighs. Melisande's betrayal was not as much of a shock as it might have been, yet it still hurt.]

[ Oh. He knows that feel. And there's a mournfulness in his expression and tone. ] Betrayal by one you held close is a deep cut that leaves a harsh sting. Difficult to forget. [ A pause, and spoken a little colder. ] Impossible to forgive.

[He nods slowly, his jaw tight.] I do not like to hate people, but I think... that my feelings towards her are very similar to that.

[ Hating people is Iorveth's favorite 8| ] I would not blame you for it. Any that would, I doubt have felt the stab of betrayal by one so close.

Edited (lol spelling) 2013-03-28 01:59 (UTC)

[Alcuin has a very loving soul.] I do not understand what they hoped to gain by our deaths. I cannot see that it would do anything but show their hands too early.

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