🌲 winter catchall 🌲

[pactmarshal]

❄️ WHO: Trahearne & u baby!
❄️ WHAT: closed starters for winter
❄️ WHEN: all throughout winter
❄️ WHERE: all over the island
❄️ WARNINGS: to be added in thread headers (definitely nsfw)

Comments

[chronosynthesis]

[... Syrlya opens his hands to peer at the rings now cradled in their palms.]

... I suppose it figures it would be a magic feather if she was so adamant about it. [He scoops them up carefully, holding one up in view.] Do we save these for the wedding?

[pactmarshal]

[ Trahearne observes Syrlya's ring, then gingerly plucks the other one in his palm. They're plain, almost unremarkable, if he didn't know where they came from. ]

I can't say. [ He does not have the answer to that. ] I believe rings are a part of the human engagement process as well. [ Since that's what this feels like. ] Is that what they could be?

[chronosynthesis]

Then do we just take them off and put them back on for the wedding? [Marjory and Kasmeer didn't exchange rings at their engagement announcement that he can remember--but then again he's never looked to see if they started wearing rings since then. Maybe he should have paid closer attention.]

[pactmarshal]

I don't know. But if these are our only rings, then I suppose so.

[ He observes the ring quietly for a few more seconds before looking up at Syrlya. There might also be some kind of magic at play, too. But. Who knows. He feels like he should go back and ask the goddess.

Anyway. He smiles. ]

Let me put this on you, then.

[chronosynthesis]

[Syrlya pulls the glove off his right hand, holding his hand with his fingers spread out for Trahearne. He has no idea if there's a particular hand it's meant to go on.]

[pactmarshal]

[ Not like Trahearne knows, either!

With his free hand, Trahearne gently holds Syrlya's in place and reverently slides the ring onto his ring finger. It fits perfectly--he lights up a little bit. It's like magic, or something.

He looks up at Syrlya with a pleased chuckle before peeling off his own glove on his right hand. The left one has the other ring on it, so. ]

[chronosynthesis]

[And Syrlya returns the favor, slipping the silver band on Trahearne's right ring finger.

... If he's honest, he thinks the ring he had made is much nicer than these.] There. One for each hand.

[pactmarshal]

[ One for each hand!

Trahearne lifts his other hand, and looks between the rings. And when he looks up at Syrlya, there's a sly little smile on his face.

He definitely likes Syrlya's much better.

His thumb absently brushes the ring Syrlya gave him--a little habit he's developed in the days since--as both hands reach to entwine with both of Syrlya's. ]

And one for each of us. [ The fondness reaches his eyes. ] In whatever time we have together, I am yours.

[chronosynthesis]

[Syrlya grips Trahearne's hands tightly in return with a smile.] And I am yours. Always.

[pactmarshal]

[ Trahearne lifts Syrlya's hand, the one with the ring, and gently places a kiss to his ringed finger. His eyes raise, settle on Syrlya, and-- ]

--Oh, that's right. One last thing.

[ He lets his hands slip from Syrlya's as he turns to collect the rest of the contents of the bag. He produces from it a small, see-through package--in it is a small stack of deep purple velvet trays in various sizes--and hands it to Syrlya. ]

These go with the box. You're free to arrange them how you like.

[chronosynthesis]

Hm? [Oh, he understands when he sees them. It's a modular box.

He takes the separators, turning them in his hands before tucking them into the box.] I will use this for my most important treasures.

[Meaning his jewelry. He doesn't have much.]

[pactmarshal]

[ Trahearne watches Syrlya take the trays fondly, and his smile widens when he mentions his intentions with the box. It's nice knowing he sees use in it.

His chest hurts. He's adorable. ]

I'm glad.

[ He leans over, fingers reaching up to gently press against the back of his neck as he plants a light kiss on Syrlya's cheek. ]

I look forward to a new life together with you at home in Tyria, Syrlya.

[ He leans back, flashes him a smile, and goes back to his pie. ]

[chronosynthesis]

[Syrlya smiles warmingly... though it twitches with amusement as Trahearne says that and then immediately goes back to his pie. Is this getting comfortable with each other?

He closes the box and sets it aside, scooting over to leans against Trahearne's side as he grabs his own plate again.]