chef_chocobro | A Quiet Spot on the Beach; Wednesday Evening [09/11].

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A Quiet Spot on the Beach; Wednesday Evening [09/11].

The quiet spot on the beach was the same, as was the fisherman's paella, but the date, the fruit salad, and the wine were all different, as Ignis had been saving one of the bottles they'd cultivated together in Argentina with the hopes to bring it out for this exact occasion: a celebration of the very first meal he'd ever cooked for Liliana, on this very same beach, as a bold response to a coy and cloying inquiry that had not only kicked off his experience at last year's Three Minute Dates, but had also fundamentally altered the trajectory of his life in ways he would have never imagined were even possible.

It was hard to put into words exactly how completely and extraordinarily things had changed for him during this past year, and so Ignis wasn't even going to try. In fact, he was just going to do what he knew was a far better way for him to communicate all of that, the same method he'd used to channel all the things that couldn't be expressed otherwise, for one reason or another: by pouring it all into food instead.

And so, his camp station was set up, there was achingly familiar music drifting quietly from a familiar music box, there was an excess of fruit that was not going into the salad to satisfy any grazing fingers, a spoon that being ostentatiously flipped far more than could ever be necessary, and, of course, someone to share it all with.

[[ and the post is for that someone~ ]]

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And much like a year ago, Liliana's perfume announced her before her step did, still with that catlike stealth that she fell into when she wasn't thinking about it. But unlike last year, tonight she came up behind him and slid an arm around his waist, her hand splaying across his chest, and murmured, "Hello, my love," lips brushing against his ear before pressing several whisper-soft kisses along the back of his neck.

...Also unlike last year, her free hand reached out to snag one of those pieces of fruit. Surely, of course, Ignis was too distracted by her greeting to notice her sneakery.

Why, between the all the prep and cooking and a greeting like that, such a transgression was practically guaranteed to slip under even Ignis' heightened perceptions. He'd no doubt spend a good deal of time baffled and bewildered over why so many of Liliana's kisses tasted particularly sweet tonight.

Must just be something in the air.

"Mmm." With a soft hum, Ignis decided the next step in the process could wait, as he leaned back a little against Liliana. "Hello, my darling," he then responded, after a moment to properly savor those whisper-soft kisses and grinning gently for each one. "I'm glad you could join me. Are you hungry?"

This time her teeth found his ear, a soft nip followed up by a soothing kiss before her reply. He could hear her smile in it, slow and curling. "Always."

The hand over his chest slid suggestively down towards the front of his pants before it fell away to wrap around his waist instead, her chin resting on his shoulder. "And dinner smells delicious, too." She laughed softly. "Gracing my tongue with something guaranteed to give it pleasure, hmm?"

"Always," Ignis responded, with a faint chuckle of his own, pleased and proud as he gave the food currently sauteing on the grill a slightly nudge, with that satisfaction that came from so many different elements just coming together perfectly. Not only for the dish, but with everything else, as well, that not only was this paella the dish he'd made for her that evening, a dish already to seasoned and peppered with meaning, but that it was also a dish that could be done in steps, that leant itself well to stops and pauses, that didn't need to be too fussy, once all the various parts were assembled. And, because of that, he could still work, at this stage, with her arms around him, and with one of his own hands reaching up to brush his fingers lightly against her cheek. Eventually, he might have to break away to shift ingredients, put something aside or set up something else, but each of those steps would be bolstered by moments like these, which in themselves would work like some extra, secret ingredient for which the recipeh would be sorely lacking.

"Of course," he added, "I do have the benefit of knowing it's a dish you've enjoyed before."

"More than once," Liliana agreed. "And enjoyed it anew every time."

It was good that he could continue working this way, because she seemed disinclined to let him go - even if sometimes one hand eased away for some inexplicable reason or another. "Do you remember, love, back in...October, it must have been, because I was still healing." She didn't say from what, he knew. "I asked you what books you liked, and you replied you preferred music." She smiled, the music box playing slightly louder for a moment; it had been that conversation that had inspired her to give it to him. "I promised to bring you such music, and mentioned how you would love Silverquill and Prismari."

And the Tenth District and the Millennial Platform, but she wasn't going to bring up Ravnica, either, and how that vacation...hadn't.

"For shame that it's taken me almost a full year to keep my promise."

"Well," Ignis reasoned, though there was a significantly more amused lilt to it than his usual strategic seriousness, "there's a reason there are so many aphorisms revolving around patience and the good things that can come from waiting..." And his grin managed to break through its usual restraints quite cleanly there, "...even if you do regard them with considerable skepticism. Besides..."

And now, a moment to turn toward Liliana, because he likely would need to break away for this next part, but not until after he'd managed to get a good, proper kiss out of it and have his arm around her waist and held in tight. A good bolstering, for the few minutes he may need for a bit of rearranging and preparing.

"I've certainly not been left wanting in the meantime."

So long as there was a truly absurd amount of utensil flipping in the interim. If she was going to lose her ability to hold onto him, the least he could do was provide her with several displays of competence at once.

She twined her arms around him, giving him a good improper kiss instead, a kiss that hinted a dessert that would most certainly not be on the menu tonight, save in small hints and bites here and there as part of one game or another. And then he went to pull away, she help him to her a few heartbeats longer before letting him go with a sharp nip to his bottom lip.

Just like their first kiss, that very night.

The first time Liliana had tempted him to give into selfishness and self-indulgence but, oh, not at all the last.

"Well...not for long anyway," she teased, chill hands cupping his face. "You smile more these days." That was not a tease, but delivered with a warm pleasure and the slightest hint of wonder in it. "And laugh. I love to hear it."

Please. Ignis would likely still find ways to flip his utensils with absentminded absurdity even if you'd gone and cut off his hands.

Although he found himself, very quickly, rather hoping that the paella would be forgiving that evening, for the multitude of distraction that would leave certain things being cooked slightly too long, or perhaps not quite enough out of anticipation for the inevitable break, or that Liliana would be forgiving if the meal tonight wasn't quite as on par as it was the first night, back when he was trying to impress her and himself with that very high bar he'd set for himself. Or that the meal would forgive them both should it be completely abandoned and forgotten eventually, although, really, no need to waste good food, because wasn't the point in all of this just that this was yet another day in the long string of days this had all become? This thing that he'd been so certain would be just a passing fancy, an idle entertainment, one that she'd surely find tiresome and weary once the novelty wore off.

And for him, just another temporary, insufficient way to fill the too many hours with which he had nothing to fill, ultimately leaving him even more dissatisfied, unfulfilled, adrift...

But no. Here they were, those fires still burning as brightly and passionately and hungrily as that first moment, and he smiled more. He laughed. Something that even he was starting to doubt he'd ever been capable of.

And he was glad he had a moment to let the tomatoes cook down a bit before adding the rice, because that absolutely necessitated another kiss, and a small, fleeting peck between stirs would not even remotely suffice.

"I daresay," he murmured, leaning his forehead against Liliana's to linger there before he was called by the cooking once more, "I suspect I've smiled more in this past year alone than I have cumulatively in the entirety of my life up to that point."

And he smiled again, with a soft and grateful hum.

"My poor face has been positively aching from the sudden overuse of such previously dormant muscles, darling."

"How dreadful of me, because here I made you smile with my very first comment," Liliana preened, her hands once more on his face, fingers brushing against his scars.

And she...she had also assumed that this would be temporary. Not because she had gotten bored of it, but because he would have chosen it walk away. It ends as it always ends, when you leave. Better him walking, like Jace, than him leaving the way Zarah had, or Annika. Alive and choosing to go was a much better fate than the alternative.

Not that Liliana thought that he would tire of her, of course. She was confident of her own ability to fascinate, to charm, to entice. She had kept men and women and people of all genders wrapped around her fingers with hardly any effort at all. But she also knew what she was capable of and what skeletons littered her own closet and while she felt very little shame for any of them, there were many people who would learn of them and turn away in horror. She had thought that surely Ignis would be the same; he was a good man. Or any of the many, many messes that she had made over her life would swallow him whole. It ends as it always ends, when you leave sounded much better then the perhaps truer sentiment: It ends as it always ends, when I have failed you.

But neither of those predictions? assumptions? had been true. Even if he did not know the full depths of what she'd done, he still knew enough. And rather than be swallowed whole by her metaphorical, he'd set his feet and fought back, refusing to budge before the Raven Man, the Onakke, or even her literal demons.

Through it all, he had stayed.

"What's truly dreadful is that I have no intention of stopping, either," Liliana said. "And have already decided to make you smile more and laugh harder this next year, too."

Until Prompto could no longer ask who that smiling stranger was holding his daughter, and Gladio--well, Gladio might always watch her with a bit of lurking suspicion in his eyes, but she was less fussed about that.

"I would say that I intend to wage war on the last of your dour stoicism, my darling, but I shall tell you one of my more selfish little secrets..." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "I quite like being the source of the vast majority of your smiles and nearly all of your laughter."

It meant that with every upturn of his lips and huff of amusement, he was further and further hers.

As if he wasn't deeply and emphatically already.

(Dead kings and canned coffee, notwithstanding).

But it was truly astonishing, wasn't it? That Ignis would inform Liliana as to exactly who he was, in no uncertain terms and two simple words, and yet there she was, constantly still surprised to discover the truth of it. Especially now knowing how bloody stubborn he was, to boot.

"Well, I do hope you don't anticipate me making that easy for you," he stated, proving that stubbornness but also treating her to one of those huffs of amusement just then all the same. "You are quite aware of my stance of the superiority of a well-earned prize."

And now he would be taking a well-earned prize of his own, as he figured the tomatoes were cooked in well enough by now that he could go ahead and add a few more seasonings, stir it around a little before adding the rice, mixing that in, patting it down and then pouring the saffron he'd prepared earlier over it. Because now it needed to be left along for a good ten minutes or so, perfectly opening him up to turn fully toward Liliana again, take her into his arms, catch a well-timed swell of music to put a little spin into it, and put that time to good use with a thorough kiss.

Edited 2024-09-11 14:59 (UTC)

While Liliana was no stranger to tragedy, loyalty was still a newer word in her lexicon, at least loyalty she could not compel with magic.

And his kiss swallowed up her retort that he needn't make it easy on her; all she had to do was be herself and she would be a constant delight to him. Especially since he was no longer constantly doing the math of what the best path forward so as to not hasten the inevitable end of it all. More smiles and laughter? Practically guaranteed.

If Liliana wasn't cheat, she still preferred to hedge her bets.

But right now, he was using his mouth for one of the few things better than smiles or laughter, kissing her soundly and deeply until she was breathless and dazed and her hunger for food was nearly forgotten. "I don't suppose you brought a blanket for us as well?" she asked, still leaning against him, reddened lips near his. "Or is this a ploy to have me straddle you in a chair again."

Liliana, you only had ten minutes.

"There is a lot to be said about the classics," Ignis noted, though in that moment, he was deeply regretting the utter lack of their kitchen counters just now and the knowledge that his camp equipment was not likely to withstand anything more that the usual dicing and chopping it was subjected to (even if it was Coleman^TM), "but I suppose we'll just have to wait and find out after we eat."

Because of course that stubbornness also meant at least putting an effort into sticking by the plans for dinner, though considering that Ignis had also regretted not setting a timer because he couldn't for the life of him guess how much time had passed during the pressing of lips, perhaps those plans would be dashed regardless. He figured, however, though, that no matter how much time had passed so far, there would surely be time still for another kiss.

Ignis' continued commitment to Plan A was admirable, it really was, especially considering the enticement that was Liliana and Plan B. And likely why there was no camp blanket as well. All wouldn't be lost the minute she managed to tug him down onto a blanket with her, but it would certainly be fighting a rearguard action.

That kiss also prevented her from waging war against his stubbornness and plans with mere words, a veritable feast of them, as evocative as the ones she'd used to answer his original question about foods gracing tongues - but turned to describe something very different, if equally concerned with pleasure.

Clever Ignis. Though that just meant she'd had to save them for while he was cooking instead.

"Unfair," she murmured against his mouth, as the second kiss moved into the inevitable third. "That you would offer me so many things to savor and yet I only have one mouth to do it with."

Like the rapidly disappearing selection of fruit that had not made it into their dessert.

Words were usually among his weapons of choice; it only seemed smart to employ a few things in her arsenal with those kisses as a pre-emptive strike, really. All's fair and all that, so on and so forth.

"Then it is a very good thing, indeed, that we should have plenty of time to get to all of it," Ignis murmured back, and employed a little bit else from Liliana's playbook with a slight nip to her lower lip, although the drift from there to her neck was entirely a maneuver that ranked among his frequent favorites, and seemed entirely even more appropriate with the way the particular topic of time pulled something a bit differently in his chest these days.

The time spent lingering there along her neck, however, for now, was brief, and his lips were soon brought back to hers, carrying an apology this time. "But if you'll excuse me," he said, "I'll be needing to add our fruit de la mer about now."

"If you must, I suppose I can release my hold upon you," Liliana murmured, stealing one last fast kiss before stepping back to let him work unimpeded.

...Running her nails up and down his back didn't count as an impediment, did it? Surely not.

She was quiet for a few moments as he worked, thoughtful and contemplative, remembering those early days when they were both mad to see one another and yet too proud or afraid to do much about it. The game that first night at her house, learning about one another, at least until it stopped once more in favor of her climbing into his lap - and then the table.

"Tell me something, my darling," she said. "About yourself, that I don't know. Big or small, joyful or melancholy."

She would never tire of learning about you, Ignis. You were one of her favorite subjects.

An impediment? No. A lingering distraction that seemed to leave an impression on him as if she'd dug those nails in and left marks that almost made him want to abandon dinner altogether just to see what further damage she could do? Oh, most undeniably. But even with that deep desire thrumming inside of him, once he did actually get around to arranging the proteins within the dish to now join the medley of flavors building as he worked, his attention shifted more towards that, and the drift of her fingers became more of just a welcomed soothing comfort, a reassurance that he was quite content in enjoying as he worked on the next thing.

And just as he was finishing and thinking about how to continue filling the time between waiting, her voice reached him, dark and rich like Ebony for his ears, with that inquisitive lilt that made the fond smile on his face now impossible to avoid.

And it was a good question, too, a difficult one, because of course his inclination was to want to find something particularly good or interesting, what what was there in that category that she didn't already know? That she hadn't already discovered? He felt he'd always been a fairly open book for her; it was just that the prose was rather simple. Straightforward. Purposeful. Hardly any deep trenches of poetry with layers of meaning with each dig. But that did make him think, with another soft huff, of at least a good way to buy himself a little more time while he tried to think.

It would also come with a glass of wine, now opened and poured with the first glass handed out to Liliana after he'd set everything for the last leg of its cooking journey.

"Why?" he asked, smirking now with his offering and a lift of his good brow. "So you can use it against me later? I mention a passing fondness for blueberries, and the next thing I know, my voicemail is inundated with prose that makes it impossible for me to taste one again without thinking of you."

"Why of course, my darling," Liliana said, taking of sip of the wine - of their wine - and making a noise of pleased surprise. It was not the brassy voignier of their first date and she already had ideas of what and how they could improve later (and was sure Ignis had more), but it was still more than passable for a first attempt. "Absolutely. I intend to haunt every single thing I can, until my spectre exists in everything you eat or drink or love." Her smile and tone were teasing, her eyes...less so, as she laid out her plans.. "Your seafood paella is forever linked with me now, and your chiffon cake, and even your Ebony is influenced by the taste of it off my lips and a car ride by the sea. Why shouldn't I, my 'Nys? What kind of lackluster opponent would I be if I carelessly left advantages upon the field?"

She drifted forwards until she was once again pressed against his chest. "Will you truly hold it against me if I admit that I wish to never be far from your thoughts and with happily stack the deck in my favor to make that so? I assure you, 'Nys, you're more than worth the effort."

Oh, that brief moment of surprise that told Ignis that Liliana had no doubt tried the wine and that it had caught her just slightly off-guard was indeed sweeter than anything he could ever hope to serve, and he savored it with his own sip (and, yes, indeed, quite a few notes, including one to pay a bit more attention to harvesting months for their next venture into vintnership). But while it was quite good, his attention was only for something much better. Let him get drunk, instead, on that smoky drawl and all the ways in which she had claimed every little aspect of his life, and made it richer, brighter, more worthwhile. The ways in which it became increasingly more difficult to imagine a world untouched by those cool hands, and why would have want to imagine such a thing, anyway?

Tell her something about himself? That she didn't already know? Impossible, what more could there truly be to uncover, when she already knew so much more than anyone ever had?

"That's just the thing, though, 'Iana," he said, arm around her as she pressed into him, one hand gently curling underneath her chin. "You needn't make any effort at all. You never have. From the very moment I met you, nothing could ever be the same again. Though you know I will always appreciate a good, thorough strategy, flawlessly executed."

Sounded like another trip down to Argentina needed to be planned out to take advantage of the harvest season. Though Liliana would need to make sure that Ignis didn't spend all his time in the fields or the winery and remembered that she, like a delicate hothouse flower, required attention too, lest she also wither away on the vine.

...She didn't foresee much difficulty there.

"My darling, you are confusing 'need' and 'want' again," Liliana playfully chided. "I know I don't need to. That doesn't stop me from wanting to. You are worth the effort, you ridiculous man, and I shall remind you of that as long as you need to hear it."

"Well," Ignis reasoned lightly in the face of this stern dressing-down of his evaluation, "and if there's one thing we all know Liliana Vess won't suffer, it's effort for the sake of anything she doesn't expressly want."

And what had started as just a playful jibe back had, of course, wound up striking on something much deeper and more resonate, and Ignis immediately felt his heart growing a bit more soft and tender and aching again. Things like that aforementioned chiffon cake, for his birthday, or all those ornaments with the photographs for Christmas. Learning how to drive just to bring him a perfect day, and dragging everyone off to a different plane for a concert because Prompto helped her to learn and Prompto liked music and was important to him...

Ignis kissed her. He slid his hand along her cheek and into her hair and kissed her again, as if that ache in his chest had spread all through him and that kiss was the only thing that could possibly begin to soothe it. He had been planning to mention the paella, to divert their attention back to it, to check and see if the mussels had opened yet, to continue deftly dancing around her prompt to tell her something, to see how long it took her to call him out on his seamless avoidance. But now all he wanted to do was kiss her and finally answer her, even if the only things that came to mind were either just inane and trivial, or simply repeating over and over until his voice was hoarse that he loved her.

(Though he didn't imagine she'd take much issue with that, either).

"You know I used to wear glasses," he informed her, smiling softly once he pulled back for a deep breath of air, thumb returning to brush against her cheek as he spoke. "But I didn't actually need them. I could see perfectly fine without them. But I didn't want just perfectly fine, I wanted to perfection, period. And so, with the most miniscule prescription, I made sure my world became that much more clear and precise and sharp."

"You know, I find myself surprised not at all by that?" Liliana said with a chuckle, turning her face slightly to brush her mouth against his thumb, let it linger briefly on the soft pad of her lips, another wholly unnecessary (but completely necessary) reminder of just how lush and inviting they were.

"It's true, I cannot imagine you settling for anything less than perfection," she admitted with a laugh. "Besides, I bet you liked how they added to your 'stern and uncompromising' aura. I would have had such a delightful time tweaking your nose - both literally and figuratively - while you glared at me with your arms crossed. Or pushing them back up while telling me I wasn't cute, which I would have immediately had to disagree with on the ground of how demonstrably false that allegation was."

"And why do I," Ignis retorted, the low dry drawl overlaid with soft fondness, with maybe just the smallest twinge of some sort of sadness in there, "find myself surprised by that not at all? But don't forget. They were also quite stylish as well."

He leaned in for another kiss, a much lighter, softer one, though no less heartfelt than some of the previous ones that were all but bursting with their passion.

"And now," he said, "your turn. Tell me something about yourself, my darling," because while the Book of Ignis was sure to be but a slim, concise tome indeed, no doubt hers would require several hulking volumes, "while I take a moment to see if our mussels have opened yet."

"There are a hundred hundred things I could tell you," Liliana said, staying him for a moment with her hand. "Ask me something."

She reached for his face again. "You are content to let my secrets be my secrets and I love you deeply for that." Even with all those times that those secrets had then reared up on them both. "But I know you have questions. And I would--today--if you wished..."

Call it an anniversary gift, a gift of herself in a way that she rarely, if ever, offered up. She slowly, but surely, was discovering she wanted him to know her further, but didn't know what to say or how or even what he'd want to know.

But a gift of an answer to a question? That she could do. And let him know just how deeply her trust for him went.

But again, not words she could say. So just the offer and the hope he would understand what she was offering and why and take it.

And Ignis' first impulse was tell Liliana that, no, he didn't wish, that he didn't want to ask her of anything that she did not to freely tell him herself. There were times, of course, where he felt he needed to ask, but hadn't they already drifted down this difference between want and need? Because she was right; he had contented himself to let her secrets be secrets, the importance she placed on privacy and mystique and keeping those cards incredibly close to her very ample chest. And while he liked to think that he knew her far better than even she realized, he had made peace with the fact that there were some things he may just never know...

But he also recognized it for what it was, the inherent trust being offered to him now. As well as the traps inherent in them. Did he ask about something as blithe and inconsequential as his own little tidbit a second ago, emphasizing his dedication to her secrets, but risking negating the depths of this gift or being dismissive of it? Or what if he did ask about those big, looming ones that he was always just waiting to come and bite him in the ass? What if he tread too closely to to someone she didn't want to reveal (and he should have known better) and the whole thing soured fast? He still remembered with a dreadful knot in his stomach the time she came home from Innistrad, after having been attacked in her home, covered in blood and picking pieces of glass from her hair...

What if he asked a question and got an answer he didn't want?

And then there was a matter of a different sort of question, not about her, but about them. Ask me something, she said, and there'd been something he'd been agonizing over asking for months now.

And that almost led him to some sort of hint of closing in on an actual answer, but he could hear the paella softly bubbling on the stove, reminding him that if he took much longer, surely it would be overcooked, and that at least settled a response for now.

"May I get back to you on that?" he asked, with a weak, apologetic sort of smile. "You know I don't like to be too hasty with things, and, well...when there is so much to choose from, one does feel a bit of pressure, to ensure that they choose well."

And he was, if he was entirely honest with himself, a bit disappointed, really, that there hadn't been anything that she would just...want to share with him. Without provocation, or prompting, besides just that initially volleying back of the game she's started. Be it big or small, joyful or melancholy....

But Liliana played byher rules, or she played not at all.

"Of course," she said, drawing away and then moving away. "I'll get the bowls for you to fill."

They must have been harder for her to find than expected because she took longer than expected and when she returned, she did so without a callback to any of the playful banter from last year. Another long moment stretched out between them, and then finally Liliana blurted out. "I never wore purple until Innistrad."

Ugh, that had been gracelessly done, but she'd already started. Might as well commit. "It was far too expensive a dye, imported from the Spice Islands. After the birth of the twins, Father got mother a purple scarf - light purple, almost a lilac - and it was probably the most expensive thing she owned. And she had jewels. Not many, but some. I think it cost him several horses to buy it. I was an acolyte of the Forward Order, so I wore mostly white, with some greens and golds."

Oh, whenever Liliana moved away like that, it always felt as if she'd gone and carved out of portion of Ignis and took it with her. Even worse, when it was followed by such silence, and he was left reprimanding himself for overthinking it, for not just saying one of the first things to come to his mind (or any of the things that came to mind, there certainly hadn't been a shortage of them!), for once more, in trying to side-step the wrong response, tripping over his feet straight into a different wrong response instead.

At least he had checking the paella to focus on for a moment, leaving him even more surprised when Liliana spoke, not some rote filler about grabbing bowls or whatever other menial task in front of them. His attention shifted her way, feeling compelled to ask if he'd maybe even heard her say anything at all, and then she was continuing.

The tension he hadn't entirely realized he was holding had loosened, and he smiled, not as imperceptivity as he'd have liked to have thought. He killed the flame on the stone and moved over to take the bowls from Liliana, leaning in for a soft kiss as he did so.

"Purple is a far better color for you anyway, 'Iana," he said. "Though I suppose I am a bit biased; I've always been quite partial to it myself. May I ask a follow-up question? Well, full disclosure, it's actually two but one rather depends on the answer to the other."

She couldn't say it didn't sting, a bit, but one of her mantras was 'never let them see you flinch,' and so, she wouldn't. Simple as that.

"Of course, darling," she replied. "Am I to assume, then, that you don't wish this to cost the question I offered you? Mmm, that might require a kiss."

There was, at that, a small hesitation. A smoother path to embark on, perhaps, to just brush it aside, move along well enough. But it was that sort of desire to avoid the wrong thing that ended him up with the wrong thing anyway, and so he found himself unable to do so again. Especially as he was perhaps understanding what the issue had been in the first place.

He shook his head.

"All the kisses you want," he said, "are yours, but freely given. This will be my question, although it's technically two. If you can bend the rules, darling, then so can I."

And so, before he began to second-guess himself yet again, he asked: "Do you possess that scarf of your mother's? Considering how you left your home, however, it seems incredibly unlikely. In which case, what was your first item of purple clothing, then?"

Liliana shook her head. "I don't," she said. "I was at the fortress and our mother and sisters were at the manor."

Thank Gaea. Or else they also would have died that day.

...Funny how she still spoke in plural still, instead of the singular

"And our father was still out with the troops. The battle might even have been still been going on, I don't know." She had never even found out how the battle had ended.

"And it was a corset. A deep purple leather corset. My third year at Witherbloom. I lost it decades ago, but I loved it."

Ignis may have, admittedly, still been a bit too in his own head to notice the plural at first, but, at the second use, it was impossible not to notice, and he gave a small nod. A thoughtful hum. And began to ladle out some paella for her.

"Was there anything in particular," he asked, hedging his bets a little more freely now, when it came to subtly attempting to squeeze more questions in, "about that corset that caught your eye?"

"There were threads of iridescent thread worked through it, so that literally caught my eye," she said. "We were walking through a tiny town and I saw a sparkle out of the corner of my eye and looked over and there it was, in a display window. It was beautiful, just intricately tooled and worked, and the color was just so rich and deep. I couldn't pass it up."

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A Quiet Spot on the Beach; Wednesday Evening [09/11].

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