In Which Dani Watches for Shipwrecks

January 12, 1205

Dani's daughter wasn't old enough to make a proper playmate for Farr, but he didn't seem to mind. He didn't seem to mind much, really, and Dani wasn't yet sure what to make of that in regards to his parentage. Celina certainly thought herself easy-going, but that couldn't have been natural for someone so drama-hungry and egocentric. Aydelle? Dani didn't know her well enough to make that call. Aydelle was a guarded woman, which suited Dani just fine because she was a guarded woman too, only without the years of life experience that had added to Aydelle's guardedness.

Years that, if the thinning frame and the bags under her eyes and the worn woolen dressing gown said anything, might have been running out. "I get that you have some sort of agreement with Celina, but surely a young woman would be better off befriending someone her own age."

"If you believe that whether a person is similar in age to you is the only measure of compatibility, perhaps." Under cover of her skirts, Dani tensed her calf muscle. Her age or not, she'd never been one to actively seek friends, nor would she know how to go about it if she decided to do so. Having been visiting Aydelle on a semi-regular basis now, she supposed they weren't not friends, but any mutual fondness was incidental. She wouldn't have sought Aydelle's company if not for Celina's request, and she still wasn't quite sure why she'd obliged that request in the first place.

Toxic curiosity, she supposed. As horrifying as watching two ships ram into each other might have been, Dani wouldn't have turned away from the sight, and so too was the case with Celina's entire existence.

But as Celina herself was safely out of the country at the moment, Dani would attempt to focus on Aydelle herself. "How are you feeling?"

"Like shit, really." The older woman smirked. "But thanks for asking. And for the record, I've been around longer than a lot of people manage, and while I've made more than my fair share of mistakes, my children and grandchildren are flourishing, and I'm in a good place with everyone else I care about."

"That's... good?" At the very least, she wouldn't pry. Perhaps mortality, at least, was a topic better saved for peers of one's own age and relative health. "Though, I don't know if--"

"If I'm actually dying? Who knows, maybe I'm not. But if I am, then so be it." Aydelle sighed. "I'll be sad to miss Farr growing up, of course, but I know he'd be in good hands with Cenric and Leonora."

"I see." She didn't, but how else did one respond to such thoughts? At least, when one found soothing sentiments so fundamentally alien. "Uh... have you told Celina that you're ill?"

"I have not--and in case I do recover, I'd request that you follow my lead there." With a casual half-laugh, Aydelle slouched back, burying herself into the sofa pillows. "Though obviously I wouldn't be in much position to stop you telling her if I died."

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