Introduction: Samovar
Jun. 30th, 2016 05:26 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
They had returned from the latest expedition three days ago, and since then Korthenon had been locked up in her chambers, only emerging for the occasional meal. The rest of the time, and in fact at this very moment, she sat hunched over the crumbling papers they had unearthed, translating them into draconic to the best of her ability.
Something was amiss. She had fallen asleep on the stack of papers at some point, and now she was certain it was slightly thinner than it ought to have been. Maybe she’d knocked something on the floor or—
“Hey, Korth! You like tea, right?”
“Um.” She turned toward the doorway. “Wade. You’re not supposed to be up here when I’m working.”
“Yes, but this is really exciting! Fontaine said you probably wouldn’t mind.” He shuffled nervously. The Wildclaw next to him stood perfectly still, head turned slightly to get a good look at Korthenon. Another of his weird machines, she supposed. She had never been entirely comfortable around automata, and the presence of one in her doorway put her on edge, enough that she noticed the papers tucked into Wade’s belt.
Suspicion dawned. “Did you steal one of my translations?”
Wade coughed. “No, I actually had Marya do it, I’m not very good at being sneaky. But it gave me this idea, look.” He nodded toward the Wildclaw, which blinked twice and started walking toward Korthenon.
She had to admit, even as she scrambled away from it, he’d done a good job on this one. Its movement was far more fluid than Victoria’s, at the very least, and she couldn’t see the seams unless she looked very closely. The machine stopped at her workspace, lowered its head over her empty cup, and opened its mouth. Hot tea poured out.
“I call him Samovar,” Wade said triumphantly. “Courtesy of your work, which I will now return to you, sorry about that. He’s just like a big teapot! Very portable, you know, good for moving uh, large amounts of tea.”
“That’s…great, Wade.” Korthenon watched as Samovar returned to the doorway, then cautiously picked up the cup. It was acceptable tea. “Has Farrier seen him? You know she likes this kind of thing.”
“I hadn’t thought of that! I’d better go find her.”
Korthenon watched him go, Samovar following a bit more slowly, probably to avoid sloshing. With the heaviest sigh she could muster, she returned to work.
Something was amiss. She had fallen asleep on the stack of papers at some point, and now she was certain it was slightly thinner than it ought to have been. Maybe she’d knocked something on the floor or—
“Hey, Korth! You like tea, right?”
“Um.” She turned toward the doorway. “Wade. You’re not supposed to be up here when I’m working.”
“Yes, but this is really exciting! Fontaine said you probably wouldn’t mind.” He shuffled nervously. The Wildclaw next to him stood perfectly still, head turned slightly to get a good look at Korthenon. Another of his weird machines, she supposed. She had never been entirely comfortable around automata, and the presence of one in her doorway put her on edge, enough that she noticed the papers tucked into Wade’s belt.
Suspicion dawned. “Did you steal one of my translations?”
Wade coughed. “No, I actually had Marya do it, I’m not very good at being sneaky. But it gave me this idea, look.” He nodded toward the Wildclaw, which blinked twice and started walking toward Korthenon.
She had to admit, even as she scrambled away from it, he’d done a good job on this one. Its movement was far more fluid than Victoria’s, at the very least, and she couldn’t see the seams unless she looked very closely. The machine stopped at her workspace, lowered its head over her empty cup, and opened its mouth. Hot tea poured out.
“I call him Samovar,” Wade said triumphantly. “Courtesy of your work, which I will now return to you, sorry about that. He’s just like a big teapot! Very portable, you know, good for moving uh, large amounts of tea.”
“That’s…great, Wade.” Korthenon watched as Samovar returned to the doorway, then cautiously picked up the cup. It was acceptable tea. “Has Farrier seen him? You know she likes this kind of thing.”
“I hadn’t thought of that! I’d better go find her.”
Korthenon watched him go, Samovar following a bit more slowly, probably to avoid sloshing. With the heaviest sigh she could muster, she returned to work.