A Complicated Matter

Title: A Complicated Matter
Time Period: January 134, A.E.
Characters Appearing:

Summary: With sleeplessness comes idle hands, which are best used constructively.

It's a late late night in the Ross house. Very little lights are on, and those that are, are likely to be of the lamp variety as opposed to actual electricity. Or in this case, the far less formal sitting room of the vast home that Dina and others call home if their last name is Ross.

Dina is sitting in an armchair, fire crackling to ward off the cold that the winter tries to force upon those who live here. It provides enough light for Dina to work on embroidering what's trapped in the hoop on her lap. A cup of tea and pot steaming on a small table, a small mouse nestled beside the pot - one presumes to take advantage of the heat. No conversation forthcoming in the quiet room though that does not discount the conversation that she might be having with the small creature. Irregardless, in here, sleep eludes and when sleep eludes, one takes advantage of the time that has been spared.

The manor is, by nature, a place of creaking sounds. Many of them at this time of night are simply those few attendees that have yet to go to sleep. Jorn has a room in the lower level as well, which is where he resides when he is here at the manor rather than at home. In both places, however, the tendency for the day to finally catch up to him runs the same ratio; at least when he is at home, Jorn is able to grumble and roll about in discomfort as much as he pleases. At the manor it is another story- he has to be quite silent in his protests, and often will either take to the halls, or find something to distract himself with.

Being that it is usually much later than others are in the den, that is why the bodyguard seems surprised when he finds Dina awake and very much there. All the better, perhaps, for he has a bundle under one elbow, and his usually intimidating cloak is on him as a blanket to a chill frame. He seems slightly more rigid- or that could be his back.

"May I join you, lady?" He still feels the need to ask, as she was here first and may desire such privacies.

"As if I would turn you away" The needle pierces up from under the fabric, drawing silvery colored thread with it, slender aged fingers shifting to grasp it and pull it the rest of the way and up away from the fabric. Likely - if the sleeves and buttons are any indication, she is embroidering a blouse of her own. Those close to the family know of her quiet vanity and love of things like such.

Greets-the-Sun lifts his head up from the tray, whiskers quivering and nose scenting the air before he's shifting, slipping off the tray and with a soft plop, down to the floor and skittering over Dina's feet. "Find a seat Jorn Wartooth-" The tendency to use his full name is a quirk of hers in the soft welsh brogue. "There is tea. If you like, I am sure that between the two of us, we could scare up something harder" Her hair is down, a single long braid that drapes over a shoulder, silver and grey well taken hold of.

"Good evening, little one." Jorn's height gives him a decent view of the little mouse familiar skittering about, and as he finds himself the seat of the other armchair- with a pained grunt, mind you- he gives the pair of them a plain little smile. The man leans far back into the chair, keeping his left leg extended, heel on the rug. "Was that a suggestion, or a request?" He finally asks, looking to the older woman with a slight squint of his eyes.

The bundle under his elbow is now on his lap, and it looks like the usual gobs of strings and needles. Jorn really needs a better system than 'throw things into a bag'. The cloak around him he lets curl down behind him, the nose tucked off of the arm of the chair towards the floor. Somehow it looks as cozy there as Greets-the-Sun felt beside the teapot.

"An offering, not a request" Greets-The-Sun is back over Dina's foot, clambering up the blanket over her lap to the arm of the chair, opting to rest there in sight as opposed to out of sight. That is rewarded with a pause in embroidering to run the tip of a forefinger down his back. "he greets you" Not that Jorn would hear it or sense it.

"Your leg bothers you. Have you spoken with Aislinn about it? Seen if there is anything that she might be able to do to help you?" Across her fabric, curlicue's are coming into being, eventually aiming to be a damask pattern is the markings and guidelines on it are any indication.

Unless one has a particularly unfriendly familiar, Jorn expects no different; they are, to him, another being. It pays to be nice. Jorn sighs out through his nose, making an attempt to adjust where he sits so that he can relieve some pressure on his hip.

"I have. We know what it is, but there is not much to do, aside from managing it when it bothers." He sounds quite disappointed about this, yet resigned to it. "There is no one way to deal with it, unfortunately." Jorn seems to finally find a place where it isn't as awkward to keep seated, though he still flexes his foot in its buckskin slipper when it finds it needling. Speaking of needles- "I tried the otter again. It did not look like a cow this time…" A pause. "As much." From the sound of this, it was a lost cause to begin with.

"If you were to just knit swaths of panels and then felted them, you might be able to piece them together better, than just knitting the limbs and body" She offers up to Jorn. "I am sure that if you were give it to Aislinn, she could give it to some child who might do well from something to hold while hurts are soothed. Whether it looks like an otter or a cow"

She puts down her embroidering to lean forward, over, set about to pouring a cup of tea for him. "I could not sleep tonight. I kept brushing up against Adler and could not stop the magic" Which means it was nothing but memories.

"I do try to find uses for my mistakes." Jorn replies vaguely, silent when the elder Ross wife goes on to mention her magic. He knows of what she can do, having experienced it as well as witnessed it. A nod goes in wordless thanks for her pouring the tea.

"Can you not take something for sleep?" Jorn is not intimate on matters of what others can do, though he gets the consistent impression that there are some things that Dina wishes she wouldn't have found out, or glimpsed in part.

"Sometimes. But sometimes this is just as good. Quiet time, with a companion. Time for oneself instead of squirreling it away on others" The cup is nudged towards the gigantic behemoth of a man to take if he wants before she's sinking back into her chair, another stroke down the spine of the mouse who shudders in enjoyment of the motion. The embroidery is picked back up with deft fingers assuming position with the needle to start over the process of marrying colorful thread and blouse. "I am thinking, of a new project. One that is a bit more vast and more ambitious of an undertaking. How would you like some electricity out there at your quaint home."

Teacups and large hands make for an image, for sure. Still, he takes it, his other hand still resting at his lap until he puts the cup down. Jorn's doings are far more less colorful than Dina's- the woolen bundle of string seems to be fashioning into a staple sweater of plain muddy brown, a dark pattern across the back of the shoulders. It is not far gone from the one he is wearing, apart from his own being quite aged. This one is also several times smaller, for a more slim person.

"I think that electricity is a luxury that belongs with men, not in the forest." Jorn, not wanting to offend, chooses his words carefully. "I do well enough, without." Quaint is how he likes it.
"There is a truth to that" She agree's, taking no offense even if she falls quiet after that for a spell, flicking her eyes between the fire and her work, an occasional pause to pay some attention to Greets-The-Sun.

But the quiet fades inevitably. "You have found a woman who has taken your interest?"

The method of throwing his things in a bag causes at least one knot in something that Jorn needs to undo before he can get the unfinished clothing ready again. He is already fussing with the needles when Dina breaks the silence; her words cause him to fumble but a moment longer, and he looks over at her- just a glance, mouth creasing into a flat tilt.

"Excuse me?" Jorn glowers down at the woolly yarn, as if it has somehow offended him.
"You have found a woman who has taken your interest" No longer a question so much as a verbal observation by Dina. "Or, there is a chance it is for a child. But I am more inclined to believe, that it's a woman."

"Perhaps." Jorn inexplicably- or not- clams up when it comes to a real answer. He frowns more, though his mood seems level enough, even if his words are fogged like the morning. Likely he is just embarrassed about something. "I have more interests than I let on about." He finally is able to set up the woolen bundle of string so that he can start again.

"Reciprocation is a complicated matter."

"It always is. Very hard to put oneself out there as well, to declare it in some manner or another. But I believe, that you Jorn Wartooth, can do so. You have a … way about you. Don't forget your tea. You don't want it to get cold." A shifting of limbs leads to her crossing her feet at the ankles, flexing her toes.

"I have not exactly made myself-" He grunts, uncertain of terms. "-declared." Available? At least not in the usual sense. It never seems to be something that he thinks too hard on, despite his best years still being upon him. "A way? Oh." Yes, tea. Unknowingly at the beckon of a woman even now, the tall man takes up his still warm tea again.

"It has not seemed …relevant until recently." Jorn can admit that much- that one reason he has never paid attention to courting was that he was so used to having no time to do it. The reasoning is only now starting to flake apart.

"A way" Confirmation with a slight nod of her head and glance up as she lifts her hand, pulling the thread through. "What has suddenly made it relevant? Are you feeling mortal Jorn? Or are you feeling lonely?" There's a glance down to her companion and the embroidery is set down so that she can reach over and deftly pluck up the mouse, let it down on the floor so he can scurry out of sight.

"Both." The answer is quick and short. Jorn finishes the tea and runs his tongue over the side of his mouth, catching a drop from the scruffy beard on his face. He watches the mouse before continuing. "Nothing makes you realize until you see that everyone else has someone. I am not naturally this lonely. I am just …finicky." When it comes to people. "And even mortality has its way of talking."

"Mortality has it's way of doing a great many things. The least of those, turning your eyes to a pretty girl. I am sure, that she will appreciate your gift" Greets-the-sun re-appears, the sound of scrabbling paws on the fabric and eventual appearance of the grey furred creature on the arm of Jorn's chair to get a look at the yarn he's working.

Jorn is by no means a masterful hand, but he is artful enough that his knitting goes smoothly. He presents the far end of the bundle of string to the mouse, a tentative offering if he may want something to line a nest, should he possess one of his own. Mice do not like winter either.

"If I can be of a mind to give it to her and not completely fear rejection." Jorn amends Dina's words with an amount of shyness. "It is much easier to win a woman when she is willing to simply throw herself in your arms."

"You do not want easy. If you want easy, there's the brothel. Besides, it should never be easy to win a woman. Ask Adler. I was not easy to win" There's a faint smile at that comment and she leans her head back, closing her eyes to simply rest her eyes. "No, it should never be easy. But if you like, I can tell you how to make it easier to woo the woman, to let her know, that you wish to court her" And she will, if he wants.

It will be a good way to kill some time before she eventually leaves Jorn to the fire and his knitting.