[PRP] Visitation (Nahm, Merry, Ahm)

[prolixity]

A letter rested on Chank's desk, formally addressed in the familiar handwriting of his no-longer-entirely juvenile and no-longer-entirely delinquent grandchild. The elder grue studied it with interest before picking up the sharpened fingerbone that was his letter opener. A formal communication of some type; anything informal would have been sent over screemail or text. A neatly written letter in proper ink on parchment meant, most likely, that the twins wanted something -- and it would be both of them in on this, whatever it was; all efforts to force the children to function separately had failed in ways subtle to spectacular. They were a stubborn and determined pair, and that was part of what had caught his eye about them from the start.

He opened and read the letter. Thin eyebrows arched in the darkness of the hood. Another of the more interesting things about the twins was that they hadn't yet stopped surprising him. The nature of the surprises wasn't always pleasant, but the fact remained. This one was ... interesting, revealing a more serious intent than he had expected. Chank reached for pen and paper. He would grant the boils' request, and see what came of the affair.

---

Some time later

Nahm had packed lightly for this trip. There was no need to take an extensive wardrobe; he was, after all, going home. He had packed necessities and the assignments his teachers had given him in advance, and a few miscellaneous items that he preferred not to leave behind. He had arranged for the minipets to be looked after, leaving strict instructions as to the inadvisability of touching Mr. Snappy. Everything was prepared, and he was tense.

He knocked on Merry's door, a formality that he did not always observe.

Beejoux

Syrie

 

[prolixity]

Nahm bowed, a different motion from the melodramatic and half-sarcastic gesture he might ordinarily have presented her with; this was a carefully measured and more serious movement, hands neatly folded inside the sleeves of his traditional robe. "Going to see us being formal a bit on this trip," he replied, but the grin he gave her was bright and apparently unworried. "Ready to go? Car's going to be out by the gates shortly. Ahm's gone ahead, like we planned."  

[prolixity]

Nahm kissed Merry's cheek delicately and cupped one gloved hand over her shoulder, an affectionate gesture, even if it was more restrained than usual. He picked up the bag that sat on the hallway floor beside him as she retrieved hers. "About an hour," he answered,"but we got a player in the back of the car so we can watch something if we want. I got a couple movies."

Beejoux

 

[prolixity]

"I'm sure we can occupy ourselves on the drive," Nahm said, and there was just the hint of suggestion in it, the slight narrowing of eyes, a teasing edge. They would be walking a fine line throughout the week, performance for an audience mixed with their own time and needs. There would be time enough, here and there, for privacy; but he knew full well that true privacy was scarce in a grue clanhold, and that their discretion would be well tested.

Nahm held his free hand out to Merry, smiling slyly at her. This was a test on many levels, a test of loyalties, a test of discretion, a test of devotion, and in some ways it was a very personal test as well. They cared very deeply for her, enough to bring her home and introduce her to the clan and demonstrate an intent that did not happen often. The hidden question remained: did she care enough for them to deal with and navigate the convoluted and often restrictive requirements and expectations that their ambitions made necessary? It remained to be seen.

Beejoux

 

[prolixity]

Nahm's tail slipped far enough out of the robes to loop loose and affectionate around Merry's as they walked, enjoying the closeness, as he always did. They weren't hurrying, but neither were they dawdling.

It was something that Nahm had talked about sparsely, a few times perhaps, late at night in the dark and drowsy state of intimacy that comes just before sleep: the fact that the twins' life at school was relatively relaxed, in comparison to the weight of attention and expectation they carried at home. Childhood had been less pressing, the boils just two more in a chaotic jumble of siblings and cousins, but as they grew older the options available to them had constricted more tightly. Home was home, and home was family, and home and family were heavy with meaning.

It had been theoretical. Now it was real. Nahm opened the back door of the long, elegant car that waited for them in the curve of the street outside the school gates, and held it open for Merry to get in.

Beejoux

 

[prolixity]

Nahm nodded to Merry, giving her a slight and sympathetic tilt of the head and a smile that was sweeter than the usual razor-edged grin. He took the bags around to the trunk of the car, which opened for him, and then returned to slide into the seat beside Merry, closing the door and buckling himself in.

"You kids ready to go?" The mummy driving the car glanced at them in the rear-view mirror. "Boss says no fast food stops today, y'hear?"

"Ready," Nahm agreed, and slid his hand over to squeeze Merry's.

Beejoux

 

[prolixity]

The mummy nodded and started the car, pulling out smoothly into the intermittent afternoon traffic, and headed for the road that would loop around the main bulk of the city. They made no further comment.

"You're fine," Nahm replied, and took the excuse to look her up and down. "Or should I say, you're [fine?" He gave her a friendly leer.  

[prolixity]

"Yeah," Nahm replied, more soberly than before. "You look nice. Elegant. We gotta do the robes, but you're out-Clan, nobody's gonna expect you to look like a grue ghoul." He rubbed his gloved thumb over the back of her hand, reassuring. "Scarf will get you points, and it'll let them know we mean it."

They'd explained before what the stitch and patch patterns on the ends of the scarf meant, and the correct way of displaying them, showing her their own scarves for comparison. He reached over with his free hand to adjust one end against her chest, the back of his hand brushing lightly against her pale fur.