#ALRt NOW I WANNA DRAW THIS

[yelly-ink]

AAAHGGHGHHHHHHHHH I LOVE THISSSS THANK YOUU SM!!!!!!!!!!! YOU'VE PORTRAYED THEM SO WELL MWAHH 😭😭😭😭🙏🙏 THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK UYO

A Waelite Indeed (Secret St. Waidwen exchange 2024 gift for @yelly-ink)

Happy New Year!!!

AO3

For the next hour or two, Aloth has the room all to himself.

The others have gone shopping, and then probably drinking. He claimed to be unwell, still recovering from the blow he'd taken down in Defiance Bay's catacombs — half true; his head does hurt, still, and not just from the usual foreign presence within — and stayed behind, winning himself... some peace and quiet? Not quite.

But, at the very least, a chance to have a conversation in private.

Iselmyr surfaces, as always, with pressure within his skull; it's a familiar and expected discomfort, but even fifty years later, he remembers how badly it scared him the first time this had happened. Part of him thought that his head was going to burst.

Now he knows better, and so he grinds his teeth and lets it come, trying to anchor himself in his own body even as Iselmyr takes some of the space.

It feels like being locked together in a small, narrow closet, with not nearly enough room for two.

Took ye long enough, she says, a teasing edge to her voice.

That annoys him. What he was supposed to do, converse with himself in broad daylight and be whisked away to the sanitarium?

On a better day he might have had more patience for Iselmyr's antics, but today… Today has been strange enough as it is.

"Well, excuse me for having other matters to attend to — such as handling the aftermath of your outbursts!"

Ye mean jawin' with the Watcher? Mayhap it's better she knows about us.

"Telling her… was a relief, yes," he admits begrudgingly — and immediately adds, "It still doesn't excuse you!"

Iselmyr chuckles in his head, her amusement like a taste of too-strong liquor on the back of his tongue.

Come tae, lad. What's done 's done.

That's just like her. Doing as she pleases and never taking responsibility — no, that always falls to him. And what if the Watcher wasn't as understanding as she was? What if she scorned them, turned them away? What would they do then?

He can argue his point until his voice gives out, but Aloth has done that enough to know that it's useless. Some ideas, it seems, Iselmyr just can't comprehend.

He forces himself to take a deep breath, master his own irritation. Anger is an unpleasant emotion; when it takes over, finding the line between himself and her becomes too difficult for his liking.

Finally, he says:

"I will admit, I didn't expect such… instant acceptance from her."

He can still see Izel's face in his mind's eye, her big eyes stark yellow against her dark fur, like two moons in a night sky. Staring a hole through him, excited, as she questioned him about his condition.

He had counter-arguments prepared, dozens of talking points to convince her that he was not dangerous; that he could manage Iselmyr enough for her to be a minor nuisance, rather than a large problem.

There was no need for that. Izel simply accepted his story at face value, and when he gathered the courage to ask her for help, agreed to his request within a heartbeat. If anything, the prospect of delving into the details of his condition seemed to excite her.

She's a fine lass, Iselmyr says.

She's a Waelite indeed, Aloth thinks; fascinated by the unusual and mysterious, ever curious.

He's still not sure how he feels about finding himself in the sights of that curiosity.

"You were trying to tell me something, back on the street," Aloth says. "What was it?"

Shortly after they'd emerged from the catacombs. He was still answering Izel's questions, and whatever Iselmyr was trying to say was lost at the edges of his awareness, settling between his eyes as a dull headache; one that would worsen and worsen until he found a safe space to hear her out.

Aye, she says, her voice suddenly more grave. About the Watcher. Fine she may be, but ye should keep an eye on her, lad.

That takes him by complete surprise.

Iselmyr, of all people, urging caution? A short, nervous laugh escapes him before he can fully compose himself.

"You're… worried? About Izel? Just what has gotten into you? Didn't you just say you approve of her?"

Certainly, Izel has been… forceful, somewhat, in her questioning, and it's not hard to imagine it becoming troublesome if she keeps at it.

But, above all else, she's an ally. They've never had a true ally before; even his Leaden Key supervisors have always remained distant by necessity, allowing him to do his own research as long as it didn't interfere with the Key's goals, but never stepping in to lend a hand themselves. Never promising anything.

And, now that they have Izel's alliance, the help of a true Watcher who is Awakened herself, Iselmyr has doubts?

Stop fretting, lad! I dinnae say she was wickt. But ye saw her down there with the Key. She liked what she was seeing.

Oh, there's the reason. Of course Iselmyr doesn't like her attitude towards the Key. Or, rather, to be more precise, she doesn't like that Izel's perspective doesn't align with her own.

"You're just upset that your ravings fell on deaf ears," Aloth counters. "So, unlike you, she's a woman who can appreciate order and discipline. What of it?"

Fye and coxfither to that!

"Now you're just being juvenile."

I was out in the world 'fore your auld man was a twinkle in HIS auld man's eye. An' I know sure as you do those fiends care nye for order - they just dig up what's rotten an' bury it even deeper.

Aloth presses his lips together, stifling the urge to respond with a more biting remark. In the end, all he says is:

"That is your opinion."

They've been over this countless times before. Whatever he says, Iselmyr will never accept it and simply keep at her own line of reasoning. He wouldn't have bothered with this discussion at all, had she not brought the Watcher — currently, their only hope — into the equation.

All I'm sayin' is, if she dinnae see they're foul, she's blind. An' if she saw it and liked it, mayhap we're better off finding a different Watcher.

"There won't be a different Watcher."

He can still barely believe they've stumbled upon this one.

Better nye Watcher at all than a wickt one.

"Izel's not wicked," Aloth says. "She's just… eccentric."

He doesn't want it to sound like a plea, but it does.

To his surprise, Iselmyr hesitates. He can feel the pressure behind his eyes ebb just for a moment, as if… as if her resolve had faltered.

Mayhap you're right, lad, she says finally. She was kind to us, an' mayhap I wirry for nothing. But if she tries somethin' with us, I'll brek those furry little arms.

"Please don't," Aloth says flatly.

Even if Izel did turn out to be evil incarnate, assaulting a woman half his height and half his weight is not the kind of blow his reputation can take.

Just keep an eye on 'er.

He sighs.

"…I will."