Charcoal (Yuuri)

 It has been too long since we had a Yuuri-centric fic, so enjoy!

It’s rare that I get a day to sit and work on things I enjoy rather than paperwork or reports, as a result the moment I heard I was getting a day off I began daydreaming of what to do. Having stayed up late the night before, as I had nowhere to be this morning, I wake up in the mid morning and find Kit laying next to me still asleep. He’s a heavy sleeper but I still try to be careful to not wake him, after all he could use the rest. Carefully I manage to find a way out of bed and stand for a moment before stretching with a yawn, my neck and back both end up cracking unexpectedly- not the greatest sound but oh if felt good. My posture at work probably doesn’t help, being around small children most of the day means one has to either slouch, squat, or find a very creative way to sit. Opening the thin paper-like door out to the garden quickly I breathe in some of the fresh air before quietly shutting it and beginning the rest of my morning routine. For once it’s sunny and fairly clear, no storms on the horizon at all, though it is still fairly cold at least for this climate.

Silently I manage to retrieve clothes from the dresser and tiptoe my way to the bath. One perk of having family ties to the Morag Tong, you learn some very useful skills from early childhood onward that pay off in a variety of situations, even if you’re only trying to not wake your sleeping boyfriend while you shower. A hot bath is the perfect way to start the day and I even feel some of the muscle tension melting away as I sink into the water and close my eyes. Between work, keeping Kit out of trouble, and attempting to ensure Valan doesn’t get into his own mischief that could snowball into a larger problem it’s safe to say I’ve been stressed and need a day to relax, if not two. Sammie is helpful in the latter regard when available and serves as an easy way for Eno Hlaalu and by extension me to receive updates on things, and there is at least the Fyr family within relatively easy reach in case of real emergencies. Neloth is intelligent, but not so helpful, and generally the combination of him and Valan leads to mutual encouragement of insane ideas. Ah, the Telvanni, I’ll never truly understand them. Must be the isolated coastline, too many rocks and not enough people addles their brain.

After some time soaking until sufficiently clean I get dressed, using the day off as an excuse to dress more casually than I usually would if I were heading to work for the day with only a basic cotton shirt and trousers. Kit is still sound asleep when I return back into the bedroom and I give him a quick kiss on the forehead before sliding open the door and closing it behind me. I still don’t know exactly what I’ll do today, for now my thoughts are on breakfast. Wandering through the winding empty hallways I eventually reach the kitchen, having taken the long way to see where everyone else in the house is and if they’ve gone out for the day. My father I find sparing with a dummy on the far side of the house, which is barely used outside of guest rooms and practice spaces for sparing and other similar techniques. My uncle had gone to visit my aunt and cousins a few days ago and won’t return until the weekend. He tends to do that around this time of year. I think part of it is his way of dealing with grief and the anniversary of at least one of his children's deaths. My mother I find when I eventually come to the kitchen and my presence surprises her. “Shouldn’t you be at the hospital?” She asks, confused to see my standing at the base of the stairs so casually this late in the morning, usually I’m long gone by this hour. “Got the day off, possibly tomorrow too. Evaluation cancellations and meetings I don’t need to attend.” I explain with a grin, it’s very rare I get time to myself and I plan to savor it as much as possible. In response to my explanation she makes a satisfied noise before asking the typical question- have I eaten yet, and having just gotten up the answer is no. I attempt to help her cook but she insists on doing it herself, also a typical thing, she rarely lets my father help with meals either outside of dishes. Eventually breakfast is served, a set of small pancake-like sandwiches filled with red bean paste in the middle between the two flat pieces and drizzled with honey. As I eat and my mother cleans the counter Kit comes wandering out having finally woken up. “Ah, Carter! Finally awake, want some breakfast?” My mother asks to which Kit nods with a still sleepy smile and mumbles a “yes please” before wandering down the couple of steps that lead from the kitchen toward my bedroom and comes and sits next to me. Using what was leftover from other recipes mom makes Kit a traditional dish that is similar to an omelet, something familiar and more appetizing than a bowl of rice or soup to someone who isn’t entirely used to eating those foods for breakfast. Breton food is generally excellent whenever I’ve had it, however it is very different to typical food found in Morrowind, even in places with heavy imperial or Hlaalu influence like here on the mainland. In places like Sadrith Mora, the Ashlands, or other more remote places on Vvardenfell, or even simply more traditional areas controlled by other great houses the dining fare is generally surprising to outlanders. That said once they try it, breakfast and certain delicacies aside, they find it enjoyable. It’s hard to not enjoy rice, ash yams, or very strong alcohol, though. One is plain, one is plain yet somehow flavorful, and one makes for a very interesting night.

Having finished breakfast Kit wanders off again to go get dressed while I head to my study, if I have some free time I may as well use it to work on some personal projects. Unlocking the door I close it behind me, though I don’t lock it. I’ve had more than enough experience with Kit either attempting to pick the lock or successfully doing so just to sit somewhere and chat due to boredom that locking it when I’m not working on anything incredibly important is useless. If he decides to stop by, it will be open, and even if he doesn’t there’s no harm done in having it unlocked. It takes me a moment to remember what I was last working on as I survey the room that is a bit of a mess of works in progress and various forms of paper. Aha! Clearing aside some scraps on the ground I find what I was last working on, a charcoal piece on a large piece of textured toned paper. It’s too large to fit on my desk hence the reason I’d left it on the floor. That’s what I can do today, get some work done on this project. Before sitting down and getting to work I clean up the space a bit, opening a window to get some fresh air, organizing my paint brushes and inks for when I get around to working on my pile of watercolor paintings and the calligraphy that Eno had wanted for potential new writ announcement cards. Taking a deep breath I kneel down on the carpet with a container of charcoal pieces of various sizes and tones at my side, along with a cloth to both wipe my hands as charcoal gets messy no matter how hard one tries, and to assist in smudging the charcoal to obtain a blended or gradient effect on the paper. Humming a tune to myself I pick up a piece of the gritty drawing tool and begin to work, making simple marks to start and getting more complex from there.

Hours pass until the sun begins to set, I take a brief break for lunch and find that Kit had gone off for the day, likely to pick pockets and my mother is busy tending the garden outside before returning to my study. As the sun sets it casts an interesting light on the paper and I decide to stow it for the night. I'll work on it another time, perhaps tomorrow. For now though as the lanterns begin to light the courtyard and the city down the hill it’s time to say goodnight to the drawing. Carefully closing the door to my study I lock it for the night, for safekeeping. Now to get this charcoal dust off my hands, if only it were a cleaner medium!