Fort Grey

Thaddeus set his pen down to rest at last and sighed, raking his fingers through his hair. He had, in the end, composed several letters, the longest of which was the explanation of Alfarinn and Simon's involvement, though that was certainly not the most draining for him to write.

He set the longest of the letters, stuffed in a thick envelope, on the counter of the bar. The others he placed neatly between the pages of the text he had brought from the Manor. Book in hand, he walked back to the bedroom and carefully opened the door.

Alfarinn continued to sleep soundly, a vision of marble skin and flowing hair spread over the blankets. It was more than a little tempting to climb back into bed and simply run his hands over that sculpted body, or attempt to kiss the Evenhet back into the waking world, but Thaddeus refrained, instead moving to the chest of drawers and placing the book in the top drawer. He had managed to find the passage he was searching for during a break from writing letters, and it had unfortunately proved as uninformative as he had remembered. He took one last lingering look at Alfarinn before exiting the bedroom, knowing if he stayed temptation would overrule his good sense.

Instead, he returned to the living room. His keyboard was now displayed prominently against one wall, though he did not think it wise to play right now; surely the depth Alfarinn's sleep had its limits, after all. Still, he ran his bare fingers over the keys, not firmly enough to make a sound, simply taking in their texture before approaching the long, narrow wooden box on the floor.

Inside the box was his sword, and Thaddeus smiled as he gripped it, remembering its weight. He did not often touch even this with his bare hand, concerned he would lose the senses tied to it, but today it was comforting to feel the hands of his father in the only way he could. Underneath the feel of those hands Thaddeus could sense other things, some of them dark, but his father he felt most of all as he stood. He shifted his weight, moved his shoulders, his wrists, his feet, his body remembering each action, his mind reveling in the sense of immediacy and presence the feel of a sword brought him.

He was startled out of his reverie by a knock on the door, and he hastily put the sword away. He checked the peephole and observed the uniformed man waiting outside, then realized he really ought to put on a shirt before answering the door and accepting the delivery. Somehow Alfarinn's more laid back attitudes about such things had rubbed off on him, he supposed. He scurried back to the bedroom and grabbed the first shirt he saw, throwing it over his head as he returned to the door to answer the now insistent knocking.

It was, of course, Alfarinn's shirt. And it was far too big for him. Thaddeus found he did not much mind, and answered the door with an uncharacteristic grin for the stranger. The smile faded sharply when the stylus was placed in his hands to sign the electronic signature tablet, but he bit his lip, concentrated on getting his name signed, and even managed to place it back where it belonged instead of dropping it. Then the package was placed in his hand and the delivery person was gone. Thaddeus closed the door quickly and looked down at the package doubtfully. Inside was his new laptop. He felt rather like a young man who had just had an infant thrust in his arms; wary and mystified and oddly pleased.

He walked to the third bedroom, intent on ripping open the package and carefully examining this new device.