Family is Complicated (Matches and Orianna)

Her father was in the midst of preparing dinner when Orianna had excused herself for a moment of peace, alone. Valethra, watching her go, moved to follow, but a telepathic message later made the baby dragon change her trajectory.

Matches is sat up in the comfiest armchair that Orianna’s home has to offer, lightly clutching a whiskey recommended by her father in lieu of a cigar, he rests in comfort, taking in the events of the day and winding down from how much travel he had been through, magical or otherwise. His red eyes are tired, but content at this moment.

A bump against his leg followed by a sudden crystalline wing to the face nearly knocks the whiskey from Matches’ hand. Valethra, her little tongue lolling out, has jumped onto his lap, giving him an excited and expectant look.

Matches starts suddenly and clutches his glass, raising his arms up to make room. “Oi, who told you we were at that stage? Cheeky bugger.” He lowers his free hand slowly to give Valethra a hesitant pat.

When his hand touches the dragon’s head a moment in time, a small snippet of Orianna pausing on the stairs and looking back, and a question that is more feeling than words, shines into his mind.

Can I speak with you?

Matches blinks, processes what he is receiving, then looks down at Valethra. “Looks like I need you to make a move, sunshine.”

Valethra gives a purr-like growl as she gently headbutts into Matches’ hand, then leaps off him. Spotting Maurice in the corner of the room, and her task done, she prowls over to the raggedy tom cat, intent to play.

Matches lifts himself out of the armchair with a hefty swing, staggering slightly as he stands, and heads towards the stairs.

It was a narrow climb, but not steep, thank goodness. The houses on this side of Daring Heights were clearly built vertically rather than horizontally, lending itself quite well to the ‘Heights’ moniker. It made for higher ceilings, which was a good thing for Orianna, who was waiting for him on the landing of the first floor. She held her new staff close as she tentatively smiled at him.

“Hi,” she says half sheepishly. “Thank you for coming. I- I wanted to speak and, well…” She trails off, hesitant. “I figured you might feel more comfortable with just me.” Her cheeks flush a little, the starlight in the new scales on her face shimmering.

Matches leans against the bannister as he reaches the top of the stairs. He looks Orianna over and manages a tired, but genuine smile. “Staff suits you brilliantly. Don’t be nervous, Baker’s, what do you wanna say?” His piercing red eyes look for hers in an attempt at reassurance.

They catch her violet stars, glowing brighter than they did have before. “When we arrived in Trecorvum and you showed interest in Gaddenthor I spoke about the Githyanki invasion… How I spoke was impersonable. I was not part of the fighting but I-… I know the devastation it caused, even here. But I had no idea…” She studies him a moment before looking down at his chest, unable to quite meet his eyes. “I was unaware of how what happened affected you. I am sorry. Should you wish to speak about any of it, I am here for you. But if not, that is okay too.”

Matches looks at Orianna before him and instinctively raises a hand to wave away her concerns and turn to go back downstairs, but he catches himself. Just for a moment, he looks at his scaled hand, and Orianna’s scaled cheeks. He clenches the hand, wanting nothing more than to just leave and hide and not talk. Instead, he laughs. It is a short and dry chuckle, and he leans his back against the wall.

“Bollocks. Here I thought I had a good poker face.” He sighs deeply and strokes his moustache as he stalls articulating the words. “I came to Port Ffirst before I had any magic. I was just… a man. And I… didn’t come on my own.”

Her gaze darts up to Matches’ face, quick as a hummingbird, but it doesn’t linger. Instead, it focuses on a map, one of Gerhard’s of a mountain range she does not recognise. “Oh… Who came with you?” she asks tentatively.

“My partner. We met in Waterdeep. Moved to Port Ffirst together, new start and all. Thought it would help things. Figured it would make her happy. And it did to be fair. Even though the town’s a shithole, isn’t it?” He looks down and wipes his nose with the back of his hand.

“It has quite the character, yes. But being by the sea is beautiful.” She smiles to herself. “I had never seen the sea before I went there…” Orianna rests her staff against the wall beside her, settling in beside Matches. “What was her name?”

“I just called her Honey. Honeywood was her last name. Tanith Honeywood. Sweetest thing to walk any plane I’ve seen. Which I can say now I’ve been to some other ones.” He manages a short laugh before he has to take a sharp, shaky inhale to steady himself. He takes a long drink.

“She sounds lovely…”

There’s a beat of silence as the two stand together in the hallway. The jovial sounds of voices drift upwards and there’s a moment where Orianna thinks maybe she could leave it there. But Matches opening up to her feels important, for both of them.

“I am sorry I did not get a chance to meet her.”

“She would’ve liked you. You’re a good kid, Baker’s.” He lifts a hand up to ruffle Orianna’s hair and gives her a light, playful push, hoping to give himself one moment to wipe his eyes with the thumb on his opposite hand. He sniffs and takes a breath before continuing. “…And I don’t mean to be patronising. You’re a brilliant young woman you just… have a lot of responsibility for someone of your age. It’s admirable. Honey would’ve thought so too.”

Orianna looks away, to her staff. “It is easier to share a burden than to carry it alone.” She lets out a small laugh. “Not that what I have chosen is a burden, but rather… it was easier to believe I could because of you and the others.” She looks at Matches, giving him a small smile. “I’m here for you, too.”

Matches gets slightly flushed in the face and shifts a little uncomfortably, not because he does not want the support or like it, but because he just got used to not having any. He manages a smile in return. “Yeah, well. Until any more of us crop up, we’re the only heralds out here. Best to keep an eye on each other, yeah?”

She nods. “Exactly. We are also family, in our own way.” Orianna rests a gentle hand on Matches’ arm. “I will be here for you, whenever you need it.”

The mention of family specifically makes Matches tense up just a bit. He sighs and nods. “Yeah, suppose so. They always say you can’t choose your family. So here we are… I don’t-” He starts a thought, thinks about it, then frowns and leaves it behind. “Don’t worry. Well, I think I have used quite enough of your hospitality for one evening. I should head out. Thanks for having me and all.” He makes a move to leave, gentle with the hand on his arm.

“Matches,” Orianna starts, her tone betraying her sudden distress. In her attempt to apologise she seems to have made things worse. Her hand is suspended in the air but it feels like it’s pressed up against an invisible wall. “Stay for dinner, please? Or- at least-… take some food with you. Something to go along with the whiskey and cigars, hmm?” she adds, trying for a lighthearted tone.

Matches stops himself, pausing for a suspended moment. His instinct, always, is to run. He looks at Orianna for another long moment before nodding, and managing a little chuckle at her remark. “Alright, cheeky bugger, I do actually eat food too.” He points one clawed finger at her. “And I wouldn’t want to be rude, so. Yes. I’ll stay.”

Her smile is a beam of effervescent starlight. “Good.” She pushes through that invisible wall and hugs him, and in that embrace she says, “I’m glad.”

Matches lets Orianna in. The intimacy of the hug and her positivity is quite overwhelming, so he doesn’t quite settle into it. But he does accept it.

When she moves away he takes a moment to compose himself as she graba the Cradle. With a glance back to Matches to make sure he’s following, he gives her a thumbs up and says, “Yes yes, I’m coming. No need to rush me, Sweetheart.” She smiles again and heads down the stairs, and he follows her down.