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[thereneverwas]

[For correspondence, private scenes, and anthrax.]

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[unshut]

"Nonsense," Fitcher says, all good cheer as she pats his cheek and withdraws. She doesn't kick her heels back up onto the edge of the bed, but she doesn't move to rise from the chair either. "That's far too much responsibility for a clerk."

Instead she settles back in, rifling through the pockets of her skirts until she finds her pipe and tobacco tin. She tips her head toward the basket and, presumably, the elfroot therein.

"Care for a light?"

[thereneverwas]

"Please," Barrow chirps, sated at last, his worries at least temporarily put to rest.

"How is everyone faring after the incident? Athessa tells me the only death was the Abomination himself."

[unshut]

"Oh, as well as can be expected," she says, producing her little tinder box from her pocket.

"But Athessa is correct. I believe we were all extremely fortunate; the only real casualties on Riftwatch's side are the dining hall's ceiling and the rear wall of the kitchens. I have no doubt that both will be set to rights as quickly as the Seneschal can manage."

It takes some moments to arrange all the accoutrements of this habit—the shake loose the tobacco, pack the bowl of the pipe, and at last to set the stem between her teeth. Striking a spark into the bowl is a simple matter; she has been practicing for a very long time.

After a few puffs, she leans back over so he might fetch a light from the pipe's ember.

[thereneverwas]

"I'm glad to hear it, as glad as one can be in the aftermath of such a thing." He puffs gently at the blunt after lighting it, finally managing to take a deep draw as he rests back, sighing it out with contentment.

"Nice to be able to help, too, though if looks could kill those mages would've had me dead on the floor in a heartbeat."