findsthesun | Practice! With Wellard

Practice! With Wellard

A young Elf*, dressed in sturdy green and brown cloth and soft leather shoes, walks into the bar.

It can, perhaps, be forgive if his first reaction is wariness and his hand flicks towards the white handled knife at his belt.

Then he laughs.

"A tavern of Men, in the middle of the forest? I have not heard tell of this."

*see (here) for description of Elves, and Legolas in particular.

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Tavi can't help but laugh. "Much like living elsewhere? Homes in trees and underground--most Alerans would gape and scoff at the notion. We live in cities, or in small farming groups called holts. And most of those cities, at heart, are really forts of some kind, with Legions stationed near by."

"I've never been much of a woodsman, myself," Tavi admits with a rueful smile. "To my uncle's dismay. I can find my way well enough, and track sheep if I have to, but I'm more suited to the Legions and the city."

Closing his eyes briefly, Tavi draws up a mental map of Alera. "A few. None that are too extensive, and honestly with our earthcrafters it's more expedient to use earth than wood, so we haven't gone out of our way to either utilize or cultivate them. But there are a few, here and there. Mostly in sections of Alera I haven't visited extensively, I'm sorry to say. The south, mainly--near Kalare and Attica and Forcia. Though those are... badly damaged. The Kalaran forests especially might come back more, since the war."

Legolas, quite seriously, says "I must confess I have not learned the manner of tracking sheep."

His straight face doesn't hold for very long.

"It's more complicated than you might think," Tavi says with mock offense, grinning, although there's an undertone of seriousness.

"Granted, it is harder when there are wind furies trying to peel your skin off."

"Yes," he says, I imagine that would be a difficulty."

He tils his head at Tavi. "You were a shepherd, once?"

Tavi smiles a little, wryly. "More than half my life." He isn't quite thirty yet.

"You'd be surprised how many useful things you pick up--like how to introduce a new and potentially dangerous creature to a herd." It works just as well on people.

"No, I do not think I would be," he says, smiling quickly. Be surprised, that is.

"In my admittedly short experience, the most useful lessons come unlooked for."

Tavi raises an eyebrow. "Short by whose definition of the word?" he asks wryly. He's heard stories about elves, during his time at the Bar.

"In my experience, it's never that a single lesson applies to a situation. Lessons are cumulative--part of a greater whole."

"Mine," he replies, cheerfully, "and perhaps--if you learn slowly."

Tavi's expression is very solemn. "It took me whole minutes to learn some things," he replies with dancing eyes. "Even a second lesson--once or twice."

Legolas gasps with mock-surprise.

Before laughing.

Tavi simply chuckles softly. He likes Legolas' sense of humor.

"It's been a long time since I thought about the sheep," he admits ruefully. Strange, that--considering they changed everything.

"Men in power often complain about not having a chance to remember home," Legolas replies, somewhat sympathetic.

Tavi inclines his head a little in acknowledgement, then quirks an eyebrow. "You know something of it?"

Impressed with Legolas' observation skills? Absolutely. About to reveal he's the leader of his people and immensely powerful? Not really.

"Elven memory is better than that of Men," he replies, with a quick smile.

Tavi just regards him for a moment intently, and then smiles, silently raising his cup a little salute before taking a sip.

His smile widens into a grin.

"Do not worry," he tells him, after a moment. "I shall not tell anyone you are visiting a tavern."

"There are those," Tavi says with extreme dryness, "who might say it was an improvement on my occasionally serious nature."

But then, who ever trusted Max's opinion when it didn't involve tactics, anyway?

"I have no such excuse," Legolas murmurs, before taking another sip of Dorwinion.

Tavi gives him a sympathetic look. "If it is any comfort," he offers, "you won't lose any time while here. So long as you are sober when you leave, no one will know any differently."

His instincts are talking to him. He's trying to ignore them in favor of logic.

"That is a relief," Legolas replies, with a quick smile. "It means I have no need to feel guilty, resting here."

...and perhaps eating here. Hmm.

"Would you mind, if I order food? It has been cram only, now, for a week."

There is not good hunting, in the south forests.

Tavi nods and grins. "I do it all the time. My wife approves strongly."

Waving a hand, he reassures the elf, "Not at all. I could use a snack myself. My usual, Bar, if you wouldn't mind?"

Bar helpfully provides him with some bread and olive oil with some spices and herbs mixed in.

"So," Tavi continues as he dips the bread in the oil, "what is cram?"

Legolas is amused as the new order of oil and bread appears, and the old eaten one disappears. But perhaps it is the staple of Tavi's lands?

He orders a meal from the Bar quietly, not wishing to stress her hospitality by being too specific in his request. A medium venison steak with crusty buttered bread and steamed asparagus appears in front of him.

"Cram is a waybread that we and the Men of Dale make," Legolas informs Tavi, cheerfully, as he swiftly cuts the steak into smaller pieces with the fork and knife provided. "The Men of Dale more than us, these days, though we harvest the honey and much of the cereal that they use. 'Tis no harm to it, it merely becomes tiresome after, oh, two meals."

With a quick smile, he eats a piece of venison, and he glances back down at his plate, eyes widening in nearly childlike delight.

Tavi smiles a little sardonically, sensing Legolas' amusement. But he has a dinner later, and is trying to keep from filling up too much. Silly politics.

Tavi nibbles idly on his bread. "I can see how that would be," the young man admits. "Although I also grant that I spent enough time serving with the Legion that I got used to incredibly banal meals."

He makes a face. Serving as a Subtribune Logistica made eating cram look like fun.

Many things make eating cram look like fun!

"Yes," Legolas agrees, mournfully. "I have heard tales lamenting this."

"I have the experience," he says wryly. "Trust me, tea made when the Legion low is low on water makes those cakes of yours sound absolutely divine."

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findsthesun - 2009-07-30 12:48 (UTC) - Expand

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