Post-Halloween

[we_bring_hell]

Harrow is working. Very seriously. She is not mooning over her new relationship with Gideon even a little bit; she has too much work to do.

She is, however, wearing a skull with accents of deep, almost black purple, with a starburst or floral pattern just below her temple, that she has never been seen to wear before.

Other than that sentimental embellishment, however, she is entirely focused on Obaeg's Toward a Common Haemographology. She is making copious notes in the margins--courting future simian fury--and thinking that she should have found this for Moiraine before they started working on her weave notation.

Comments

[riddleofthebelow]

"It's nothing to aspire to, I promise you. It's not something I will hide, but I'm not proud of being a murderer, either. I do wonder though how energy used to power the Killing Curse would compare and contrast with your thanargy."

Not that there would be a way to test it, of course. But he does wonder.

[we_bring_hell]

"I'm not sure," she says. "Wei Wuxian and I have discussed the possibility of resentful energy being an emotional energy used to jacket and control thanergy, to allow spirits to wield it and to move it around. It seems possible that there are commonalities with other forms of magic as well."

"Then again, a sword can certainly kill without using thanergy."

[riddleofthebelow]

"Yes, but in such a... graceless, physical way. Magic is much more elegant."

He realizes this would sound horrifying to most people. Harrow isn't most people, but he still waits to gauge her reaction.

[we_bring_hell]

"I would agree," she says thoughtfully. "But there is a sermon on Necromancers and Cavaliers that has some interesting philosophical arguments about blade and magic balancing one another spiritually and practically."

[riddleofthebelow]

"I can certainly understand that, especially in a world in which the dyad of sword and sorcerer is a cultural norm."

[we_bring_hell]

"It also repudiates the possibility of a romantic tie between cavalier and adept, which I of course do not agree with," she says with a shrug. "But nevertheless I found some insights in it."

[we_do_bones]

"Oh, right."

Honestly, there are way too many keys, doors, and permutations of who has or knows what for Gideon to keep track of. It's a good thing Harrow is such an unbelievable detail-oriented nerd.

She kicks a foot back and forth, just to have some physical outlet for her anxieties. "I know time is stopped there," she admits, "but I keep worrying about them."

Them is understood, she knows, as being Palamedes, Camilla, and Dulcinea. She doesn't give a rat's ass about the Third or the Eighth, and the Second can more than take care of themselves.

[we_bring_hell]

"Griddle," she says gently. Every so often, Harrow is reminded that Gideon is a better person than her.

"The preparations we make here will benefit the Sixth as well as us."

[riddleofthebelow]

"Well, that's a sermon for you," says Tom, who hasn't sat through one since he ditched Muggle London for Hogwarts or minions' estates as a teen.

"One or two insights amongst the judgmental dreck."

[we_bring_hell]

The Reverend Daughter of Drearburh smiles oddly.

"I tried to average at least four."

[riddleofthebelow]

"No offense meant, Harrow," Tom says, frowning slightly. "I have strong feelings towards the hypocritical religion forced upon me as a child."

[we_bring_hell]

"None taken," she says. "The priests of the Eighth House are vile like that."

[riddleofthebelow]

"The Eighth House drains their cavaliers like batteries and yet preach their righteous ways? Sounds about right."

[we_do_bones]

"I know."

Her brain does, anyway. Her body and instincts, though, they're wired to fight, not retreat and plan. And there are times here when she feels...less than useful. "I just feel weird about it."

[we_bring_hell]

Harrow is a creature of patience and traps. She loves Gideon, however.

She lays a hand on her cavalier's bouncing knee, and gives her a troubled look.

"Would you help me with something? I'm afraid is rather trivial, but I'd like your assistance."

[we_do_bones]

"Yes," she says, instantly. "Anything. Point me at it."

It doesn't escape her notice that Harrow is giving her a direction where she can focus her energy, and she loves her adept a little more for it. "What's up?"

[we_bring_hell]

"Will you help shave my head?"

She runs a hair over the bristles, which have indeed escaped to an unruly micrometer more than Harrowhark's preferred tonsure.

"There is no one I would trust more with a blade."

[we_do_bones]

Gideon reaches over and runs her palm over Harrow's head, lets the bristles tickle the tender inner part of her wrist. "Yeah, I can do that."

She feels instantly better, having a task, and she's grateful to Harrow all over again.

[we_bring_hell]

Harrow smiles at the zing of Gideon's touch. She rises from the table and picked up her book. "Come on then."

It's been a long time since anyone but herself did this.

[we_do_bones]

"You don't need to finish what you were working on?"

She asks, but she's already swung herself off the table and into step just behind Harrow's shoulder.

[we_bring_hell]

"I was just reading," she says. "There's nothing particular to interrupt."

She reaches back to catch Gideon's hand, although she knows Gideon is following proper cavalier protocol and she is undermining it. But Gideon's hand is rough and sure and heavy, and she feels more certain when it's holding hers.

[we_do_bones]

Gideon's hand is always, always there. She twines their fingers and squeezes Harrow's just a little, just enough to say hey, you're holding my hand, that's neat.

"Do you have a razor in the room already?" she asks. "I know I'm great with swords, but even I wouldn't suggest them for this."

[we_bring_hell]

"Griddle, how do you think I shave my own head?" she asks.

"I have everything I need, I'd just like you to do it." She hands Gideon her book so she can unlock the door without letting go.

"I've never even let Crux do it, you know," she says in a low voice.

[we_do_bones]

"Wait," she says, when the door swings open. A tug of her hand brings Harrow back to her; she bends her head and kisses her adept, long and sweet.

(They've done...a lot in the last few days. They neither of them have any secrets left from the other, but this is intimate in a way Gideon doesn't know how to parse and desperately does not want to fuck up.)

"Okay," she says, after a long moment, and releases Harrow, her heart thundering in her chest. "That's all."

[we_bring_hell]

Harrow kisses her back whole-heartedly.

She's anxious about it herself, but Harrow will always grasp the thistle, given the chance. She's been thinking about this, and now--when Gideon needs to feel useful, and trusted, and important--is the perfect time to deploy it.

She is a creature of patience and traps.

She holds the back of Gideon's head, fingers tangled in her untidy mop, and doesn't let go for a moment even when the kiss breaks. "Okay," she says, with an answering smile and a bite of her lip.

She unbuttons her high-collared black shirt on the way to the bathroom, stripping down to her camisole and stopping to remove her boots.