#FierroChase

Pottery and Origami

Magnus sleeps without dreaming for the first time in ages. "Morning." He says through a yawn, wandering back into Floor 19's common room. T.J, Mallory and Halfborn sit around a table, chattering away like finches, but they bid him good morning when he approaches.

He helps himself to a plate of soft rolls and a cup of hot chocolate, breaking off small pieces and dipping them into his cup. Halfborn has loaded his plate with eggs, sausages, bacon and about half a loaf of bread. Mallory nibbles at a strawberry muffin, and T.J pours himself a cup full of the blackest, nastiest coffee known to mankind.

"Where's Alex?" Magnus asks, in between bites of soggy roll.

"Pottery for Experts," Mallory shrugs, and glances over at Magnus with a smirk. "I think she wants to make you another vase or something, since you kept gushing over the last one that she made for you."

Said vase now bears pride of place on Magnus' bedside table. Alex had fashioned it to resemble the unfurling of flower petals in sunlight, painting the tips of the petals a pale shade of pink. He'd found it on his bed, wrapped clumsily up in brown paper and string, but it had been all too easy to identify its maker. Magnus also may or may not have stared at his gift for all of ten minutes, his face flushing crimson beneath his tan, opening and closing his mouth like a koi.

He stops chewing to gape at Mallory. "I was not gushing!"

In a surprisingly accurate imitation of Magnus' voice, T.J says, "Hey, guys, did you see the vase Alex made for me the other day? She's such a good artist, and all her works are so great! I would totally buy every single one of the pots she makes!"

As his companions laugh, Magnus almost feels the table rattling.

He hunches over his food and shovels a piece of roll into his mouth. "Alright, alright, I get it."

"Whoever loved that loved not at first sight," Halfborn intones sagely, with a sigh and a wink in Magnus' direction.

"Um . . ."

Thankfully, Mallory provides a translation, though the exasperated roll of her eyes does not go unnoticed. "Some Shakespeare thing. Halfborn has a PhD in Literature."

"What's on the agenda for today?" T.J takes a swig of his coffee. "Combat practice isn't till later in the afternoon."

And just like that, the conversation has shifted from the rather sticky topic of 'Magnus'-non-existent-love-life' to 'what-should-we-do-before-we-die-in-a-burst-of-glory'. Magnus is so relieved that he could have skipped around the room.

"I've got knitting at 10 - we're using a round loom today," Halfborn grins.

"What other classes are there?" Magnus asks.

Mallory snorts. "Thinking of making something for your girlfriend?"

Magnus ignores the part about Alex being his girlfriend. "Actually, yeah. To say 'thank you' for the pot."

"You could just kiss her," Mallory mutters. "Pretty sure she'd enjoy that more than a drawing."

Magnus pointedly ignores that too.

"Here's a schedule," And from within the depths of his tough canvas jacket, embellished with gold epaulettes and buttons, T.J. withdraws a crumpled piece of paper. "I personally like the reenactments."

The square of paper rests on the polished pine table. They all peer at it. Magnus pushes his plate and cup aside in favour of scanning through the paper that lists the classes available at Hotel Valhalla. There's some of everything – pottery, natural drawing, flower arranging, cooking, French, Feng shui, guitar . . . Magnus almost steps back from the mental overload.