things best kept hidden - [Gaspard]

It was cold. It was winter in Scotland and it was cold. Most people would have been indoors in front of a roaring fire but Nikodim felt no such compulsions. He carried an inferno in his chest, so with the exception of really bad rain storms he could be found outside in pretty much all weather. The cold was slightly uncomfortable, as the Madin affinity the Incin had carefully cultivated hated the feeling of frost and dead earth beneath him. It was a mild discomfort, though and he'd lived with it for a half a century. The feeling was hardly going to stop him from enjoying a clear and crisp winter day.

Nikodim lay on his back, a plaid blanket stretched out beneath him, and a picnic basket sharing his space. He was shirtless, but was wearing a pair of black pants and high-laced black boots. While he normally went barefoot, he always wore boots in winter with extra socks. He still had nightmares about the war: watching other soldiers break off their toes as they succumbed to frostbite. He took no chances.

The zealot was looking forward to this meeting. For several months, his schedule and that of his friend Gaspard hadn't synced up well. They never seemed to be at the Council seat when the other was. But earlier in the week, the two had arranged to meet for lunch. To Nikodim, Gaspard was more than a simple friend. As far as the Garth knew, Nikodim had known him since he was a teen, brought to Inverness by his foster parents once his elemental magic emerged. But the Incin had known him for far longer than that. He had held the boy mere seconds after his birth, had been the man to carry him and place him in the arms of his new parents. These were things tried not to dwell on. The poor boy's past was a tapestry of secrets and lies, one that held Nikodim honor-bound to silence.

The soft crunch of shoes on frosted grass pulled Niko from his dark thoughts. He turned his head, seeing the younger man walking near. "Gaspard!" he called, waving, as if the Garth could fail to see the 6' 4" giant laying on the red and black blanket. "Come sit! I have food. I even managed to get some of those weird French cheeses you like."

@Gaspard Archambault 

As of late Gaspard’s mood had been rather dour, though that in itself wasn’t unusual either. In spite of his poor mood, the Garth elemental had been all too happy to meet up with Nikodim, one of the few elemental elders the man felt he could consider a friend. Returning the man’s wave with one of his own the blonde was quick to offer him a smirk “I think you’ve mistaken weird for delicious…” his voice was light, almost jovial. There were few things that Gaspard enjoyed more than sarcasm or a good friendly debate, even over French cheeses.

Once he’d made it to the blanket Gaspard set himself down easily and eyed his companion mischievously, an old habit from his boyhood he hadn’t quite managed to shake “So…tell me Nikodim, how are things?” this time his voice was more serious, and brown eyes watched the older man carefully. He wasn’t trying to give his friend a hard time as much as he couldn’t help but observe, probe, and question. He’d learned long ago that it was much easier to ask the questions than to be questioned. Particularly when dealing with someone who knew him as well as Nikodim did. While he listened to the Icin elemental speak, Gaspard busied himself with examining the full contents of the picnic basket before pulling out some dried meat and crackers, offering some to the man across from him first before making a point of picking up one of the French cheeses and making a show of slicing a few pieces off.

Chewing thoughtfully, Gaspard stretched comfortably as he let Nikodim finish speaking, enjoying the chill in the air against his skin before speaking his mind “strange business is brewing at the council, if you ask me.” What it was, Gaspard had no idea, other than that lately during his business at Inverness, he’d been unable to ignore the way the hairs on the back of his neck stood up, and the strange feeling in his gut. If he was careful, he might be able to get his mentor’s take on the topic.

"Bah!" Nikodim exclaimed, throwing his hands up in a dramatic show. He well knew the younger elemental's love of debate, so he played along with it. The two men could have long discussions about topic ranging from political unrest to literature and even if they disagreed (which was fairly often) they could respect each others opinions and appreciate the different perspective. "What kind of cheese goes all runny-gooey just because of a little heat? Now Circassian, there's a cheese. You could stick it in an oven and it would be just as firm and crumbly as it was before." Nikodim took the proffered food, nodding his thanks.

"Ah well, things go on like they do. The Typh are getting unruly with no Harbinger to keep them in check. The council has decided to keep them occupied by having them dig through records to see if there's any mention of other occurrences like what's happening at Hogwarts. We have a few of our children trapped there, mostly Madin. Demeter is beside herself." The earth Harbinger was a sensitive soul and she took on a more motherly role for the new elementals under her care. Nikodim was also concerned about the little ones. He loved teaching and often served as an out-of-element instructor for the incoming discilpi.

He sighed, "Initially there was talk of this being a rogue plot, but that seems unlikely." He was quiet for a moment, thinking. "The rogues have been too quiet of late, for my taste. I am glad for the peace but a part of me can't help feel like this is the calm before a storm. And I hate storms." Nikodim felt free to speak of council business with his younger friend. Gaspard was as loyal to the council as any, although a number of older elementals distrusted the boy because of the story of his parentage. Niko believed in nurture over nature, however and the Garth had long since proven himself to the Incin.

"What about you? How have you been? Any advances in your studies?" Nikodim liked hearing about Gaspard's life. Although the younger man was not exactly open to sharing much about himself, Niko always made sure to give him the opportunity. He would not push or pry, just let the other man know that if there was something he needed to say, Nikodim was willing to listen. He had never told Gaspard this, but Niko liked to think of him as the son he would likely never have and so he took every opportunity to see to his physical and emotional well-being.

With the friendly debate over cheese momentarily forgotten, Gaspard listened intently to what Nikodim was saying, careful to pay plenty of attention. Nodding at the remark about the Typh “Any idea who will step up or be asked to fill the roll?” It had been what felt like an eternity since the Typh had had a harbinger, and Gaspard had to admit he was genuinely curious to see what Nikodim thought, as he was generally more privy to that kind of information than he was himself. “It is quite the shame about the few children stuck at Hogwarts, but I would imagine they’ll be able to look out for one another, no?” Gaspard understood where Demeter’s feelings would have been coming from, but never had quite grasped her seeming need to worry. Granted, the situation at Hogwarts wasn’t entirely worth dismissing, but Gaspard had faith in their students, no matter what the element.

He’d heard that chatter too, though probably through much less official channels, since most of the council elders tended to look at him as though he was something sticky on the bottom of their shoe, rather than as a respectable elemental. It didn’t matter much to Gaspard anymore as he’d come to terms with the situation long ago, and generally was content to treat others as they treated him. Gaspard couldn’t disagree with Nikodim, though things had been awfully quiet on the rogue front lately, and it was quite suspicious. “I suppose it could be” he pondered out loud “especially since we’re not picking up the same chatter that we usually do.” He finished with a shrug, not entirely sure what to make of rogue activities as of late. It was disappointing, Gaspard had to admit that Nikodim hadn’t had as much noteworthy news as he had been hoping for.

Turning his attention to the more mundane questions posed by the Icin Gaspard answered with a shrug “I’m alright, nothing new to report really” he offered with a laugh “even my studies seem a little stagnant, as they can sometimes be. Rozenn is a sucker for perfection.” He finished wryly, thinking of their last lesson that had rapidly devolved into a snarkfest, rather than much of a lesson. But Gaspard had to admit, it did keep things interesting.  After a pause the blonde added “have you had purpose to work with her much?”

Despite the hints from Lario that Nikodim should take more of an active interest in council business, the Russian was a simple and direct man. He liked seeing a problem and tackling it head-on. Subterfuge was not his strong suit, which was why he found it rather ironic that the council routinely put him in positions where he was forced to keep rather large secrets. He supposed he should be flattered; the Harbingers seemed to trust him completely. Well, he thought, almost all the Harbingers.

Nikodim silently cursed himself for letting the topic drift to Rozenn. He knew Gaspard was looking to take Demin as his second affinity so any talk of his studies would inevitably lead to the harbinger. It was like some kind of dark comedy, the mother teaching her son without knowing. Nikodim tried to keep his voice neutral as he replied. "She is a perfectionist. But in all fairness, she is as hard on herself as she is on any of her pupils." From what Nikodim had heard, she was a good teacher even if she was demanding.

The elemental considered his words carefully, thinking of how to respond to Gaspard's innocently loaded question. "Work? No, not particularly. I've never been paired with her on a mission. And since she has become harbinger she spends most of her time in council business." He paused, weighing his need to stop talking about Rozenn with telling Gaspard more about his relationship with Gaspard's mother. "I use to spend a great deal of time with her. I was a pupil of her aunt. I've known Rozenn ever since she was a little girl." He probably shouldn't have said that last part. That was ancient history, six decades past now. He and Roz hadn't been on good terms since he had helped take Katell into council custody. A number of events had strained their relationship until it had deteriorated almost completely. They were coolly polite in public but they avoided each other if at all possible.

The blonde nodded slightly, silently acknowledging that Nikodim might be right about Rozenn’s standards. And if he was honest with himself, he was probably really no better with his students most of the time, particularly the older few. Smirking as he finished his own thought, Gaspard spoke “That may be true, but” he paused for emphasis “it’s not like she’d ever admit to it, is it?” He was probably being a little petulant, but since it was all in good fun at the moment, the zealot wasn’t worried. And as casual as he could be about discussing his mentor, Gaspard had to admit that he struggled with the way Roz made him hone his edges and smooth out the wrinkles, despite the fact that he usually held himself to a high standard, although, he’d never really taken well to being told what to do by anyone.

Gaspard had to stop himself from rolling his eyes in disappointment, Nikodim wasn’t giving him anything interesting to work with about Roz, and it was absolutely no fun. But just when he was about to give up hope, Nikodim kept talking, and the Garth zealot listened intently, and the result was better than he could have asked for. Quirking an eyebrow Gaspard mulled each point over separately in his head. Nikodim used to spend time with his mentor on a regular basis, but since he could remember, and he’d been a council brat for decades, the two of them had never once acted as though they had a history. His curiosity was piqued indeed.

At Nikodim’s mention of Rozenn’s great aunt, the man felt his lip curl in a small sign of distaste. He didn’t know the woman well, and he thanked his lucky stars that he didn’t, but she’d always looked at him as if he was something she’d just managed to scrape off of the bottom of her shoe, and wasn’t sure how to get rid of him. His final point was the one that made him grin like a cat who’d just caught the canary. He wasn’t sure whether or not Nikodim would appreciate his calculated probing, or not – but it didn’t matter, he wanted to know more. Still grinning the blonde took a sip from the glass in front of him “Oh really? Do tell...” He was curious to see how is long time friend would handle the situation, whether he would answer, or backpedal.

Nikodim chuckled, amused at the way Gaspard refused to back down. "I suppose she wouldn't," he conceded with a smile. He knew as soon as he heard that Gaspard was planning on taking Demin as his second affinity, he and Rozenn were going to bump heads. They were too much alike, something which Niko found darkly funny and a little disturbing at the same time. He caught the look on Gaspard's face and frowned slightly but said nothing. If Niko didn't want to discuss Rozenn then he really didn't want to get into it with his friend about her great aunt.

The Incin huffed slightly, trying to think of things he could say that would be entertaining enough to amuse the younger elemental but not particularly incriminating. He wasn't a gossipy kind of person, so talking about others inevitably made him uncomfortable. He avoided looking at his friend as he spoke, staring up at the grey-blue sky. "She was around the council from a young age," he began. "Practically grew up here. She was a bossy little thing," he continued, his mouth curling up into a slight smile as he remembered. "Never one to sit quietly or be excluded from conversations. She hated being told she was too young, too inexperienced. Roz was a little spitfire, a real handful."

The memories were still fresh and despite decades they still hurt a bit. Encouraging Roz as she worked on new techniques, chatting with her and Demeter; those days were long gone. He missed them. Nikodim cleared his throat, sitting up. "She's quite different now. More guarded, more careful. Well, I suppose as a Harbinger you need to keep yourself under more strict control." As he recalled how Rozenn had been as a child, he couldn't help but see the strong resemblance between mother and child. Both driven, hard, stubborn. Angry.

Blood will out, he thought grimly. He was honestly shocked no one had made the connection. Rumors spread like wildfires among the council and there had never even been so much as a whisper about Gaspard's true parents. Oh, there were plenty of lies and exaggerations perpetuated by the former Harbinger Demin, but none of them were the truth. He supposed it helped that Gaspard resembled neither parent strongly, taking more after the older sister he never got to meet.