[The Office] An Unwanted Gift

[Kokuten]

”That is terrible kind of ye, and thank ye for bein' so under–”

Maeve paused, realizing now that they were speaking aloud. "Under such strange circumstances. I don' want te be any more of an inconvenience than I've been already. To you. To Ruarc. My dear, Ciarán. Ach. My sweet, snowy familiar. What a merciless life he led tae preserve me."

She ran a finger over a horn, ”I think ye called him… Six-Piece? It's a strange nickname tae be sure, but I'm glad he had friends in his final days."

[Straken]

Pressing her lips until they were thin lines, Laoise considered the shift in mood.

"He and I weren't friends," Laoise said simply. "He was an agent of a vile man that saw no issue with killing kids to get what he wanted. Six-Piece was an insult, not a nickname. But..."

The familiar fell silent as she considered her next words.

"I was ignorant of his situation; your situation. He was dedicated to you until the end. I would do the same for Ruarc. And for my part, I apologize for my pettiness; but not for considering him an enemy."

Laoise took a sip of tea, if just to make her clenched jaw relax.

"To that end I also ask that you not consider yourself an inconvenience. It diminishes everything Ciarán accomplished for you."

[Kokuten]

"I didnae'... I dinnae' know that," said Maeve, shaken by the shift in address, "I'm drawin' on the barest things in my mind. I dinnae know who you were, until you said your name, but once I heard it, I knew he remembered ye fondly. That's why I thought … I cannae explain it, I cannae understand… No, ye're right."

After a short, tense moment, she sipped her tea, and it helped her nerves. "I dinnae mean t'ruffle your feathers, either. I… is that not somethin' I should say t'other birds?"

Feeling as though she were digging her hole even deeper, she quickly took to sipping more of her tea.

[Straken]

Contrary to what some people thought of her, Laoise didn't enjoy being severe or mean. Perhaps her personality had compensated for Ruarc's tendencies towards placating, or perhaps she'd simply developed the old fashioned Irish temperament; what with her flaming ego, hot temper, stubbornness, great personal charm and warmth, and wit that shone through adversity. Now however was an instance where her past cruelty had unintended consequences. Leveling her eyes on Maeve, Laoise considered her next words. She had already put forward the offer for room and board, amenities, assistance, and even what amounted to friendship; prattling on about those would be little more than thinly veiled avoidance. While speaking further about what happened with Ciarán would only serve to stress Maeve out further.

Setting her tea cup down with a soft clink, Laoise raised a finger to request a moment before standing up. Stepping around the table and into her bedroom, the sounds of a rummaging drawer could be heard. Before long Laoise returned, and in her hand was was a bottle. Taking her seat, Laoise popped the cap and released the scent of whisky into the air. Pouring a small belt into her cup she offered the bottle to Maeve. Then she lifted her cup in a toast.

"For the birds."

[Kokuten]

The owling took the bottle in both hands and stared at the dark, amber liquid for a long moment. With a steadying breath, fresh tears formed at the edge of her eyes, and she blinked them away. A tableaux of emotions fluttered on her face as the memories of her fate, and Ciarán’s, burned freshly in her mind. The tears turned into a stream, as Maeve finally had her moment, in this period of safety. Smelling the whiskey seemed to provide a small sense of comfort, especially when wrapped in this warm place.

“F-fer the birds.”

Maeve toasted Laoise’s glass with the bottle, before turning it back and drinking straight from the source. It was a… more than respectable draw, before she set the bottle down on the table with a refreshing exhale. Then, she repeated…

“Fer the birds.”