“Are you in my head again?” Meg chuckled at his placating words. “It’s just that you told me you were a traveler and you have an accent… I feel like I should have guessed that you knew another language.” she shrugged.
She smirked a little at his comparison between them but nodded. “I think, in a way, you may be right. My nature does do the same to me but you are probably the only one I’ve met who can relate to me this way. It’s nice.”
“Hm, maybe a little,”Nwalan replied with a snicker. He had honestly smelled her embarrassment before hearing it, but he decided to keep things simple.
He then shrugged,”Some travelers speak not other languages, even when they have an accent. Also, my own accent be unusual, and I never specified if I do know other languages. I shall rectify that now by saying that I know many.”
“Indeed it be,”he replied with a soft smile.
Though, he knew there was a large gap between her odd nature and his own. After all, she was almost certainly a full-blooded human, while he was human only in appearance, but she reminded him of De’Tearion in some ways. She was alone. Different. An outcast. That was something that had helped form a nearly inseparable bond between Nwalan and De’Tearion, and even between Nwalan and Agatha, De’Tearion’s sister. He wondered if it would create a similar situation with Meghan.
Meg chuckled a little at his answer and softly pushed against his shoulder.
Though her laughter grew as he pardoned her reasoning about his accent. “Do you always make such good points when someone… argues with you?” she teased, not really thinking of their conversation as an argument.
She smiled back, not feeling the need to state the obvious fact that she had also been able to relate to her father before. Especially since this… nature of hers had also been his. Her mother had thought it was a charming trait, being so honest and able to read people, when they had first met. But it must have been at least a little irritating after a while, then perhaps worse when she was born and started showing the same trait.
Nwalan couldn’t help a mischievous giggle when she pushed his shoulder. It was the smallest games in life that were the most fun, and he cherished them whenever he could.
A chuckle escaped him at her question.
“‘Tis an often occurrence. One of my usual tasks back home was to defuse conflicts and disagreements. Pointing out things and reminding folks of the details was one of my preferred methods,”he explained casually.
Meg smirked playfully at his giggle and leaned back, relaxing again.
“You must have been very good at that job.” she complimented before shifting slightly. “But I have to ask… the way you talk… I mean it's obviously natural for you, so… I assume everyone else where you're from talks the same way, right?” she fumbled through her question, not wanting to seem rude by phrasing it wrong.
Nwalan smiled thoughtfully at her compliment, then listened patiently to her question. A light chuckle escaped him.
“My homeland had many different nations, each with their own language or dialect. I know all of them, and can switch between them with ease. Yet, I choose to keep this accent to honor Tearion. This be his accent, his language. The countless things he did for me in our time together… It would be a grave dishonor if I showed not my continued respect and adoration of him in any way I can,”Nwalan answered sincerely, almost reverently.
“Oh… that makes sense and I think it's a beautiful sentiment.” Meg admitted. She was a bit awed by his reasoning but found herself wishing there was a similar way for her to honor her father.
She also felt a bit silly for thinking so small of his homeland. If he knew so many languages and worked to solve conflicts, then his home much have been a very large island… Was he an ambassador or diplomat? He didn't strike her as a politician, at least not one in the traditional sense of the modern world, but he may have still had influence.
Nwalan couldn’t help another smile at her words, though a slightly sadder one than before.
“Agatha, Tearion’s sister, would have agreed with you. Though, it had actually confused Tearion when I originally adopted his accent. He understood the reasoning, yet I believe he questioned its necessity. He was always pragmatic,”he mentioned, chuckling a bit at the memories.
He noted the pensive look in her eyes and peeked at her thoughts again. The temptation to answer her unspoken questions was hard to resist, but Nwalan held himself back this time. Her questions would open complicated and painful doorways into his past and his nature. If he wasn’t careful, he might scare her off before she acquired adequate context.
“I know you are curious about my hierarchical position in my homeland. I could easily answer that, yet doing such would leave you with more questions than answers. ‘Tis a long and strange tale, and quite a sad one as well,”he forewarned softly.
Meg smirked a little at hearing a more familiar name before chuckling as she imagined the confusion from that situation. “I almost wish I could have seen his expression.”
“Hey, stay out of my head.” she half-heartedly warned, not really minding all that much since she had no clue how to ask that kind of question… then again there were probably going to be a lot of questions like that in their time together. “You don't have to tell me about it if you don't want to talk about it. But I want to remind you that I’ll probably pick things up better than most. And it sounds like both our lives have more than our share of sadness, so if you want to talk, I’ll listen.” she assured.
“Hm… well, it went kind of like this…”Nwalan said, trailing off to make a very goofy, overly dramatic confused face. There was no way anyone would really pull the expression Nwalan had, but he couldn’t resist being a little silly.
A shy gleam entered his eyes at her warning. He knew she wasn’t actually scolding him, but he didn’t want to upset her.
“I can try, yet ‘tis instinct,”he mentioned, his tone matching the bashfulness in his expression.
“Well… to somewhat explain my former political status in my homeland, let’s start with Tearion’s status. He led his nation. He was of royal blood, you see. I was his closest advisor, alongside being, in very simplified terms, his adopted son. I also… am of royal blood. Though, admittedly, I forsook that part of my life when I chose to stay with Tearion. My own family was… unpleasant, at best. There be more, much more, yet that gives you the basics,”Nwalan said.
Meg laughed, shaking her head, at the exaggerated expression, getting the distinct feeling that Amrien was poking fun at both herself and Tearion. But her amusement faded at his sheepishness. “I was teasing. It's… there’s nothing wrong with it being instinctive. And I didn't really mind.” she assured.
When he started explaining the hierarchy of his homeland, Meg listened intently, fascinated by his family history. Though she was curious about what circumstances led him to cut ties with his biological family and end up as an adopted member of Tearion’s family, she chose to keep those questions… thoughts to herself to avoid being too nosy or bringing up more unpleasant memories for him. “That… so, you're royal in two families? No wonder you're so… refined,” she admitted thoughtfully, remembering two specific actions he used earlier.
Nwalan giggled at Meg’s laugh, happy that he had gotten that reaction. He liked making people laugh or, at least, smile. It helped keep him in a cheery mood as well.
He nodded at her words, relaxing a bit. It made a difference that she didn’t mind. In general, he usually either avoided revealing his telepathy or avoided using it. Most people would never know of his presence in their mind, but those that did know, regardless of how, he tried to be respectful of. De’Tearion had gotten him into that, mostly because he had hated telepathy for the longest time. It took De’Tearion getting married for him to finally become lenient with Nwalan’s habit of mind reading.
Returning to the present, Nwalan sensed Meg’s thoughts shifting to a deeper level. She was likely hiding something, comments or questions, but he didn’t pry. If she wanted to keep something to herself, he’d give her that. Her continued interest in him was more than enough reason to do so.
“More or less. I vary from one to three royal lines, depending on how they are defined. Tearion’s wife was royal as well. Yet, my time as a courtier indeed shows,”Nwalan replied, chuckling at the end.
“Three?” Meg’s eyes widened at the admission. For a brief moment, the thought of curtsying and giving an apology fitting one of those period piece stories popped into her head but she decided against it. If he preferred honesty and didn't mind her bluntness then she didn't see a point in pretending. But she might tease him later. “Well, you're really something else then, aren't you?” she smirked. “Aside from your abilities, I mean.”
Nwalan chuckled and nodded,”My own bloodline, Tearion’s line, and his wife’s line. Though, I was only heir apparent briefly, before I met Tearion.”
He snickered at her words, then shrugged.
“I suppose I am. Though, this land seems to be quite different from the kingdoms of my homeland. I am unsure where or if I have a place here,”Nwalan replied.
Meg shook her head and chuckled. “What are the odds?” The question was mostly rhetorical until she started thinking about what his homeland was like. Maybe the odds of such a coincidence happening were greater there. He did say that there were multiple kingdoms…
“From what you told me, it certainly sounds very different.” she agreed, raising a brow at his last comment. “What do you mean by that?”
Nwalan chuckled,”My situation was unique. Maybe only somewhat for the… ‘outer’ kingdoms. Yet, for the ‘inner’ kingdoms, it was truly unique. My kin and Tearion’s kin are mortal enemies, have always been. Our bond together was the antithesis of our existence. He should have hated me, and I him, yet that was never our bond.”
He used ‘outer’ and ‘inner’ kingdoms as a more subtle, and far less complicated, reference to the human and forest kingdoms of home. He then smiled nostalgically at the memories of his last comments, snickering at the disbelief on his real father’s face when he had announced to the entire Forest Council that he would stay with De’Tearion, instead of return home as tradition demanded. That day had started the greatest days of Nwalan’s life.
Nwalan nodded at her agreeing comment, then shrugged at her question.
“The culture here be far different from what I am used to. I know not where I can be useful, or if I should even bother trying to find a place and instead continue my travels. Back home, I was a courtier, a bodyguard, a tactician, even Court Sorcerer in the court of Tearion’s wife. Court and war is what I know best. Be that even necessary here?”Nwalan answered.
Meg raised a brow at the news of the actual uniqueness of the relationship between him and his adoptive family. It almost sounded more like the start of a story she would read about as opposed to something she would ever encounter… but it didn't make it any less interesting. Though I wonder if that old bias is why Tearion didn't like telepathy at first…
“Honestly… war is something that happens everywhere. But here… I wouldn't know how you could get into an official position like that.” she admitted. “And I only know of one place that has a court and it’s across the ocean but I know less about it than I do the politics here. I doubt Court Sorcerer is a position there either.” she explained thoughtfully.
(Sorry for the late response. It’s been hectic lately)
Nwalan immediately noted her pondering thought about Tearion’s dislike of telepathy. He almost asked her how she knew about it, as he hadn’t told her. But, he quickly remembered that she could perceive facts more keenly than the norm. Still, it caught him off guard.
It also made him curious if cultural bias had played a part in De’Tearion’s disapproval. Though, if it did, it had been a small part. His primary reason for disliking telepathy was due to concealing his emotional instability. Tearion may have been an exceptional warlord, but he’d never had the heart of one.
Nwalan listened closely to her, humming in thought. He then sighed, his gold eyes growing distant as they scanned the nearby tapestries.
“Obscurity swallows one whole, does it not? Even after lifetimes spent in both the light and shadows, being truly obscure be… I know not the word. Nightmarish, I suppose. What be a nightmare though, except another reality? One without a masterpiece?”he rambled, speaking his gloomy thoughts aloud.
Nwalan slowly stood, turning to face one of the tapestries he’d been under. It was a landscape, depicting a meadow of blooming flowers beneath a rising sun. It was a gorgeous design, one that left him torn between sad memories and pleasant nostalgia. A single iridescent tear slid down his cheek.
(It's ok.)
Meg’s eyes widened at his profound sentiment of obscurity. Though she nodded thoughtfully as she considered her own opinions on it. “I guess… it could be something of a nightmare. But sometimes I wish I was more obscure,” she admitted. “Or maybe just more ordinary. I’m sure I’ll be forgotten eventually, but my art will last.” she smiled faintly for a brief moment before sighing as her mind replayed some more unpleasant memories from her school days. “Do you fear obscurity?”
She followed his example and stood up, feeling the pins and needles as the blood rushed back into her legs. It hadn't escaped her notice that there was a tapestry above them but she hadn't payed much attention to it in favor of learning about Amrien.
Nwalan’s eyes drifted back to Meg as she spoke. He listened to her words, intrigued by her views on the concept of obscurity. Though, he didn’t immediately answer her question.
In fact, it took him a long moment to answer. Her question was one he had never considered, and the tapestry in front of him made him realize how conflicted his feelings actually were about it. The quiet serenity of the tapestry’s meadow, so peaceful, so beautiful, but so lonely. Which side did he favor?
“I know not if I fear obscurity. I suppose ‘tis possible. I… I enjoy the silence and the freedom of it. Yet… I… Obscurity be for the loners. I am no loner, though I am only somewhat a social creature,”he said, a few more tears sliding down his face as he continued to stare at the tapestry.
He quickly wiped his eyes then looked at Meg.
“I have been alone before in my life, yet it had been mostly voluntary, or otherwise necessary. This… I… know not,”he added.
(Sorry, I’ve been struggling with a reply for this one.)
Meg waited patiently, curious to hear his answer. There was something about the way he spoke, not necessarily just his sentence structure, that was just so intriguing. Not to mention this was the first time in a long time that she hadn't felt so alone. In a way, he was relatable because his abilities were so similar to her own, and the fact that he wasn't put off by hers.
“Around here, we call that being an ambivert.” she smiled softly. “Someone who enjoys both being alone and being around others. Honestly, I'm not sure if I’m an introvert or an ambivert myself but… I guess I've gotten used to being alone.” she shrugged, meeting his tearful gaze. She gently placed a hand against his upper arm, remembering his earlier… attack. “Are you ok?”
(It’s alright. I honestly got a little stuck with the ending of my last reply, so that probably didn’t help much lol)
“An ‘ambivert’… Hm…”Nwalan mumbled, fascinated by the new word.
Though, he was quickly reminded of his erratic emotions when Meg put her hand on his arm. He sighed, brushing a hand through his thick hair.
“Too much talk of loneliness and too much raw nostalgia in the tapestry in front of me. ‘Tis a pity, as it be a beautiful design. I… also am unaccustomed to being completely alone,”Nwalan said with a timid chuckle.
“Thus… shall we do something else? Possibly something more entertaining? I have yet to cause any true mischief here. And, I am utterly lost. This art gallery was the first place I saw after arriving,”he added, a bright gleam growing in his eyes as he spoke. It seemed like an abrupt mood change, but Nwalan was simply trying to hide his discomfort with mirth. He wasn’t as skilled at hiding emotions as he used to be, though he’d never been as great at it as Tearion.
“Yes, it is beautiful.” Meg nodded with a gentle smile when he laughed, but couldn't help a brief laugh of her own at the attempt to change the topic. “Mischief? Unfortunately, I don't know if I can help you there…” she admitted. “But, if you're up for a walk, I know a good place to get something to eat.” she offered, thinking that maybe the fresh air and a change of scenery might help him.
“Of course you can. We puff up each other’s hair, make it spiky, and we run around screaming and shrieking like demons for a time. We have to keep people light on their feet, else they will get lazy and inattentive,”Nwalan replied, laughing immediately afterward at how odd his idea might sound to her.
His amusement turned to intrigue at her suggestion and he hummed in contemplation. Did he dare go with her? He had never eaten before in his life, as he didn’t need to. None of his kin required sustenance, being the creatures they were. However, it didn’t mean that he couldn’t eat… So, why not?
“I mind not walking. Lead the way,”he said with a soft smile.
Meg laughed with him at how ridiculous the idea sounded and shook her head. “It does sound pretty crazy… and kinda funny. But I wouldn't want us to get in trouble for disturbing the peace or something.” she admitted.
She nodded when he agreed to the walk before turning back towards the main exhibit hall. “Just stay with me. I’ll keep you safe.” she assured with a smile.