childrenofbahamutlogs | A joy hard learned in winter was the warming of the bed { catch-all log }

"It is," he says, and there is a small note of pride there. "The Fleuret name is as old as written history in our world."

But that pride dies all too quickly. For what he says, it may seem odd though.

"I am its prince." A brief pause, somber as his expression falls. Technically, with Lunafreya gone, he is its king. But saying so feels wrong. Like it's stolen. Like her life was.

Ravus steels his expression back into something more neutral with a sure practice before the thought can hurt him further. His gaze flicks back to watching ahead of them as they pass by various homes. He presumes Rosie will tell him which is hers when it comes into view.

"I would still prefer only Ravus though, thank you."

Rosie might be a bit stupid, but she's not completely unaware. Reading people was her job, in a way, so she notices that quick shift in tone despite his initial claim. It may be an old name but not necessarily one associated with pride. At least, not anymore. Maybe once upon a time, which makes her wonder what happened but she won't pry about that right now.

"Okay," she answers. "Just Ravus." She won't bring up the title again lightly either. "My house is the one with flowers painted on the windows," she says, realizing he probably needs more direction than just a cardinal one. "And the pink curtains. Couldn't find much with cute color here yet, but I managed that at least."

At least she has that going for her. On his end, Ravus is unaware of the slip, and pretends as if there's nothing to it.

The house in question is easy enough to spot once the details are pointed out. Coming up to the property, Ravus tilts his head at the sight of the flowery windows, and the frame of pink curtains.

"Cute." He says in that all-too-serious tone of his. But if there's a slight twitch to the corners of his mouth, well, he doesn't openly say he rather likes it. This place, Town, really is too drab for his own tastes, but he's felt that way about near everywhere outside his homeland.

Ravus steps up to the front door, and very gently eases Rosie to her feet. Without leaving the immediate space, he keeps a steadying hand on the small of her back, just to be sure, though.

"I would not enter a lady's home unbidden, but if you are amenable to it, I should like to see you to bed, and resting." Because he was raised as a knight, and ought to fulfill his duty to make sure she recovers? Or because he is painfully familiar with stubborn, independent types that will not properly take care of themselves unless supervised?

Yes.

'Cute,' he says, like someone would about a grave matter. It's a bit comical to hear without seeing the mild upturn of his lips. It makes her smile though in spite of how bad she feels so that's something too.

"Bluh," she lets out once her feet find solid ground again. It actually feels uneven and she only doesn't wobble thanks to that hand. Wasn't being carried and taken care of supposed to make her feel better? This blows. "Not exactly how I imagined bringing a man back to my place, but this place keeps surprising me," she can't help but poke fun. It is certainly strange for her though. Everything here has been.

"You can come in but I have some things to do before I can rest. Mostly just, like, checking the garden and that I have enough food since they mentioned maybe bad weather this month..." She's already walking inside, trailing off and wandering like a woman on a mission and not one who should be taking it easy.

Ravus arches a brow at the comment about bringing a man home in such a manner. Not because he gets what she means, but because he doesn't. There's no elaboration, though, and by the time he considers asking about it, Rosie is already being inadvisable. She teeters off, something about a garden and food, but Ravus is already at her side once again. This time he gently takes her by the elbow, and attempts steering her towards where he assumes the bedrooms might be in a small cottage similar to his own.

"Carrying you here was not on the condition you start putting yourself to work the second I set you down. Rest," he reiterates. Seems he was absolutely right not to leave her to her own devices after all. "Your garden is quite capable of growing on its own for a few days without you, and there is more than enough in the local food stores to supply you. I will bring you what you need, provided I do not find you collapsed on the floor when I return."

It's probably for the best he doesn't question, honestly, even if she would have explained (and probably to his embarrassment). Scattered as she is anyway, she does kind of follow her thoughts as they bounce around now. It's only the touch to her elbow and nudge in a different direction than the one she was headed that sees her realizing, right, she isn't alone.

Part of her had expected him to just leave, admittedly. Not that she doubted him, just- That's the way these things tend to go. (If she wasn't of any use, then why stick around?) Even living with Charlie, she tended to be independent and left to her own devices more than she didn't. "I am... obviously not very good at doing that," she answers, but does let him lead her back towards her bedroom with minimal fuss besides.

"I also can't ask you to, like, bring me stuff! Bringing me here was already a lot."

"Yes. As terrible as fish are about the business of climbing trees," he says, flatly. Sorry Rosie, he did watch you immediately go and do exactly what he accused you of likely doing if he didn't attend to you. He calls it out as mildly as a severe man like himself can. At least she doesn't physically resist.

"A lot?" He says, head tilting as he guides her to hopefully sit on the bed instead pursuing her wobbly wandering. This is not a lot. This is bare minimum in his eyes. "I disagree. You do not weigh much, and my strength is superior to most as is. A bit of gardening and bringing you supplies is perhaps one of the most minimal tasks I could rightly do."

Stepping back, he glances back toward the kitchen, then to Rosie.

"Are you amenable to deer meat? They are abundant, I have a friend that could prepare plenty of meals from one. Or I could simply bring the whole carcass. I've noted the eating habits of others changing to match their dragon's."

Not yet, at least. It's still a possibility that she might try and physically resist eventually... Granted, that would require her having the energy to. If she still does after everything, she might have earned the right to! (No, that's not how this works.)

He questions her statement though and it makes her question it now too. So, try and clarify: "Well, no, like physically it's not a lot just- The time, I guess, is more what I mean? Like- You probably have way better things to be doing with your time than all this." In her mind, most people would. Even The Morgans were always so busy; they made time for her, of course, but she could still feel like she was taking them away from other things.

"Venison isn't bad. Mutton is my favorite, though I'm not to eating a whole carcass stage yet." She wasn't going to knock it though since, yeah, it seemed like things might go that way.

He's got nothing but time, really. And the hours are spent honing himself to be useful, either by training or by listening to what his dragon wants to teach him about medicinal herbs. This is just another form of being useful, isn't it? More direct, more in-line with the service drilled into him from a young age. Maybe he's even looking forward to it a little.

"My schedule is not so busy that a lady in need of someone to ensure she does not overtax herself with her stubbornness cannot be attended to. I have some experience in the matter; it ought to be put to use." He's already walking to a window to look out over the garden to see the state it's in.

"As for mutton, I will see what I can find. I have a very dear friend who is an excellent cook, and I'm sure I can convince him to prep a few extra meals." Of course, he wouldn't ask Ignis without properly offering to repay the favor, but he'll think of that later, or perhaps leave it to the other man to decide. Either way, he doubts he'll mind.

The garden is, perhaps surprisingly, in incredible shape and thriving despite the frost. Rosie has always had a way with nature and plants to begin with, but her powers through Demora were only enhanced it seemed. Well, when those very same powers weren't trying to undo her. Although simply nauseated and fatigued currently, she did worry it was only a sign of worse to come. Guess she'd figure that out when she needed to.

"If you say so," is her only retort. Although she can think of a million better ways to spend one's time, she isn't about to continue admonishing him for it. How could she, when she'd do the same for someone else that needed her? She wishes she could see herself in that light, sometimes, but for now- Rosie will continue to be a bit stubborn about it.

"I'll pay him back somehow," she offers, too, despite the yawn that escapes her shortly after. Being tired isn't anything new for Rosie, but this tired and so swiftly was. "Just let me know."

Ravus nods, approving of finally winning this silly standoff. Her yawn is all but a white flag waving to him, and he turns to her briefly.

“Get some rest. I will see to a few things in the meanwhile. You have my word that nothing will be lost to you or damaged in the meanwhile, and that none will disturb you either.” He does a quick, half-bow with the promise to show his sincerity, but he’s already moving to work a second later. He’s nothing if not efficient.

Which means that is how he spends the rest of the afternoon, tending to a surprisingly lush garden this deep into the colder seasons, making sure the pantry is stocked. Checking for enough dry goods should he not be able to procure as much meat as he might like. Despite his size, he is oddly quiet about all his tasks, mindful of disturbing her rest as he treads lightly.

When he’s satisfied to his absurd levels of perfectionism though, she’s still asleep. He doesn’t think it necessary to wake her before he leaves, but there is one more thing he does. Ravus takes a cup, fills it with water, and sets it on the corner of the kitchen counter. Bringing up his mechanical arm, Ravus picks a few of the bright blue blooms from amidst the vines. He arranges them neatly in the cup, leaving a Tenebraen time-honored gift of flowers for visiting a friend, before he makes a quiet exit.

A joy hard learned in winter was the warming of the bed { catch-all log }

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