Welcome to Gaia! ::

Whatever their guests had been anticipating, Jalase was not it. Lenila couldn’t see at all from where she was, tucked in the shadows, stuffed into a narrow bit of space and eyes shut besides, but she could hear them, and the potent silence that stretched immediately after the door’s opening and Jalase’s greeting.

“Ahh. Good…evening, sir—?”

“Who is this-”

“Relax, Lord Fareiah…” The deepest and calmest of the voices sounded just vaguely familiar to Lenila, though without seeing him, she couldn’t draw to mind a face. Though she couldn’t see, he was the broadest among them, but of middle height and aging in years, dressed in the long robes of the clergy. Flanking him was a taller, younger man of lithe figure and pristinely kempt clothes—early thirties, perhaps, and clearly of the wealthier class—the Lord Fareiah, on the right. And on his left, a harried looking man, dressed in the uniform of the trading office.

“The gods have evidently sent many men out onto business this night. I am presuming…” The clergyman’s eyes scanned Jalase, “…that you have some business here yourself? Perhaps we might help each other…”

Lenila felt as though the only thing she could hear was her pulse—but that wasn’t true when they spoke. Despite the rush of it in her ears, they were after her, they were near enough that it was impossible to miss, and for a staggered second after the initial inquiry, she felt a knot of fear that Jalase would cooperate. He was a city guardsmen. These men sounded official, and on business. Surely it had to do with the Boss. Thus after, Perhaps we might help each other… she waited, holding her breath.

One, two…

Jalase’s arms remained folded. He didn’t say anything initially—and when he did, it had nothing to do with revealing her. Perhaps it wasn’t a surprise, he had let her hide. But it felt like a new relief just the same. The men discussed briefly between them, but after a short period, the one who had lead them off thanked Jalase for his time, and a few moments of sputtering and mutters from one of the others later, they were retreating, their voices fading down the long hall.

Lenila sank her bank against the wall, and gave a long puff of an exhale, squinting at the shelf wood before her. Adventures always seemed more glamorous and climactic in story form. She’d have to amend this one later. In the meantime, however, she peeked out from around the edge of her ‘hiding’ spot, and tossed Jal a squint, the lingering question remaining unvoiced for fear of detection:

So am I in trouble with you now?

She suspected she’d be able to discern one way or another in a moment.

Somewhat, she gauged in answer to her previous question as she watched Jalase’s reactions and was eventually faced with his assertion. She puffed lightly, walking out and dusting her arms before hooking her thumbs in her pockets. “Explainin’ ‘bout what?”

There were a number of topics which could be on the table: her newly ‘revealed’ gender, her presence here, the fact that there were people after her—or whatever the Boss wanted—though that was as much news to her as him, if not unexpected. “And are you, uh, real set like on doin’ the explain’ here, or ought we scoot? ‘Cause I don’ know if those were your friends, but they ain’t mine. And-” She pointed a finger at him for emphasis, since this seemed to be a repeating point of concern, “-I ain’t stole nothin’. Not here, anyhow.”

“Weeee…” She drew the word out on a thought, squinting towards the door. “Could, ah, just wait a wee moment, aye, an’ then leave.” As to the other question, however, she rocked back onto her heels eyeing him. “Was let in. Didn’t so much wanna, but…” She shrugged. “Sometimes, don’t got a lotta say. The Boss had some friendfolk o’ his I guess let me in.” She squinted. “Actually, they made right sure I didn’t know where exactly I was put aforehand…so if you do, you’re ahead o’ me. I was just supposed to have a look around…”

“Aye…y’ could,” she said, eyeing him. “But y’ haven’t yet so I don’t figure you plan on it this time, ey?” At his suggestion, though, she followed. She didn’t want to be there any longer than necessary, and the halls were quiet. Whatever sign of the men who had come by that might have once been present were gone, and her ears picked up nothing but the sounds of night outside.

She would be happy to be outdoors again, though it would be another matter entirely explaining what happened. She would worry about that then.

Until then, she’d keep at Jalase’s back. Since she’d been taken in blindfolded, she couldn’t have even said for sure where the best exit was, and while there were persons waiting for her—they would just have to wait a while longer than they planned. She wanted Jalase to have nothing to do with them, and far preferred herself in his company than theirs. Though she didn’t tend to find herself trusting of anyone the city employed — or most others of any stripe, for that matter, save a narrow few exceptions — Jalase had only ever proved himself to be a more decent man than she’d expected of him.

Really, the city didn’t deserve him. Perhaps one day she could convince him so. But that, too, was a thought for another day. For now, she contented herself following behind him.

The evening air was crisp when they made it out, cool with night breezes but not so cold yet with winter to make it unpleasant. And the stars were out. It might almost have been beautiful, if not for the nerves in her belly. Some of that, though, was eased the further they made it from the men they’d left behind, and though perhaps she should not have trusted any employee of the city so much as she already did, Jalase had given her no reason to distrust him. She prefered him to any of her other options, in any case.

She would feel better, though, to put distance between them and the building as a whole, since her ‘companions’ at interest would surely be arriving soon to enter and look about for her. Given that nothing had gone according to plan, she thought it better that she simple report in at a later date—and avoid them for now.

Lenila blinked at the suggestion, and then flushed, nodding. It was probably the best possible suggestion she could have hoped for, and alleviated the fear that he might either immediately be cross with her or want to leave her the instant they got out. This way, at least, she could continue to procrastinate returning to the other portions of her life.

The walk until the tavern was mostly quiet, each apparently content to let the mounting issues sit until they had a space to themselves, and this was just as well—Len didn’t really want anyone overhearing what they might have to say anyway, and the quicker they got away from the building, the better. When they did close in on it, too, it was clear that the waning hour had had (perhaps as predictable) the opposite effect on the tavern as to the surrounding buildings: it gave off a warm glow, bustling from internal noise in sharp contrast to the general quiet of the rest of the street.

When the swinging paneled doors at its front burst open with an exiting patron, Len took a half step to position herself behind and beside Jal — putting him between her and the rather loud, boisterous character who was clearly having a disagreement with the woman in his company.

“-and I find you here—but of course I do, where else would I expect to find you? Every night-”

Len hummed, tuning it out and beginning to whistle. She really didn’t like listening to arguments, and it didn’t much seem her business to overhear in this case.

After following him in and ordering a sweetened milk — far be it from her to waste an opportunity to get some sustenance in her gut even if it was in liquid form — Lenila glanced to him when he began speaking and felt her cheeks heat. She shuffled lower in her chair with a soft, evasive huff, elbows propped at the table but head low.

Usually she didn’t feel a speck of guilt about lying.

“I lie t’ everyone,” she muttered. But with Jalase it admittedly felt a little different. If only perhaps because he seemed to insist on never doing so and just generally came off as oddly decent as compared to most. “So’s ya don’t gotta feel jipped or nothin’. An’ you’re not that dumb, I’m real practiced, comes easy.” She fiddled a finger at the tabletop, scraping the grains of wood lightly with idle disinterest. An excuse only to not immediately look at him.

After, though, she shrugged and eyed the corner of the table.

“S’better to be a boy, most times,” she said. “Folk’ll give work t’ boys an’ think a boy knows what’s what, and they don’t got wierd nasty interests in ‘em like they do girls. You wanna be a wee girl, my tall, pretty bitty face an’ no one ought t’ look after ya? Folk are sick an’ disgusting an’ men think girls belong to them soon as the gods grow ‘em big enough t’ make babies. Ain’t gonna be a girl out there, not me.”