“Ye both love the same way.”
Gina pours them all some tea after ushering Jarl in and the Boathand out. She promised to take care of them and to fetch Cael the moment they were ready to head back (the out-of-town priest wanted to stop her there and point out that they probably weren’t returning to Bailenac’ringy but let the probable truth lie).
“Full hearted and selflessly.”
The tea is greener than Jarl is accustomed; although he cannot tell if this is because it is literally green tea or if it is because it simply has more green things in it. He thinks it’s the latter as bitter particles hit his tongue the way coffee grinds might invade his mouth as he drinks. Part of him worries about this; the other…
“Like the sun.”
The witch settles herself down on the three seater across from the fireplace. To her right, where she leans to, is the love seat holding Áesta and Manus; the both of whom are once again happily snuggling each other. Manus, like Gina and Jarl, is sipping some of Gina’s brewed tea from a tiny handleless cup; his is bright pink, as is hers, but Jarl’s is a deep purple and the tea pot itself is a shocking white (like the fireplace and counter).
Áesta isn’t drinking anything: in his deep purple cup is only cubes of bone white sugar.
“Blindingly.”
~
“Ye have a great struggle in yer future.”
Jarl frowns, torn between annoyance and agreement, when, as soon as he finishes his tea, Gina takes his cup and peers into it, tilting it this way and that—along with her head—like, quite frankly, a lunatic. Leaf reading, Manus tries to explain—as though Jarl doesn’t already know what it is. But he does. And it makes him angry.
Because she’s just stating the obvious.
And this isn’t what they’re here to do.
~
“Of course I do!”
Manus shrieks dramatically and shrinks back, carrying
the surprised Áesta with him. Gina, strangely enough, looks unperturbed and
simply stares back at the suddenly enraged Shantown priest. (The nerve!)
“I’m trying to rescue my brother from a kidnapping DAEMON!!!”
And, really, how wouldn’t that be a great struggle???
~
“Is, bhfuil tú.”
Gina calmly sets the drying cup down, unique purple eyes never leaving Jarl’s furiously flushed face.
Everyone else’s eyes, however, are drawn to the cup which now boasts fiery red leaves.
(But how? That was some kind of grass/camomile, right? How’s it RED???)
“And you’ve come to me to ask about him; so ask, child.”
~
“…”
Jarl breathes shakily as he works his jaw, body now trembling as the weight of the moment finally hits him. They’re here. With someone that KNOWS the kidnapper. Gina hasn’t just SEEN him, hasn’t just SPOKE to him, she—what, exactly?
Jarl suddenly sits as he finds where he wants to start.
“How do you know Red?”
~
“I’m an herbalist of old.
“Many say what I do is witchcraft—and that is technically true. What ye call witchcraft is just understanding: knowledge of the elements and how they ‘re meant to combine.
“And when ye know as much as I do, people come to ye.
“Of all sorts, they do. An’ I never stop ‘em: don’ matter to me if they’re human or not; ‘long as I can cure ‘em an’ they can pay me, I’ll help anyone.
“Including daemons.
“That’s ‘ow I know Red, as yer callin’ him. He came to me, wounded, one day and asked fer me help. ‘Course, I gave it fer some special stones he had on him—they’re fer my spells: gemstones, ye know?
“Ar aon nós.
“Red is a bounty hunter. He hunts anyone and anything so long as ye pay him.
“This is why he has yer Jasey.
“Someone paid fer him.”
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