A week ago, Tevruden had brought the remnants of a box and the bits and pieces in it to Van. “Can you put it back together?” Tevruden had asked, and Van reluctantly said he’d give it a shot. It’d been a music box, something that looked more in place for a little human girl than a grown orc woman. Van remembered asking how it’d gotten broken (as Tevruden never did anything on accident), and had gotten a response about how Tevruden’s commanding officer had stormed through Feiyn’s house on a rampage while she was gone. One of the things destroyed had been that box; he’d managed to replace the other things before she would come back later in the month.
Van’d built a replica, almost exact (from what he could tell from the pieces Tevruden had brought), and that same replica sat where Feiyn normally had kept the music box; on her windowsill. The two are sitting at her table in her home, waiting for Tevruden to join them. Feiyn’s nursing a beer and Van is sipping some tea she’d opted to brew (despite her trying to coax him into drinking, just a little).
“So… do you know about the box?” The elf asks, looking up from his cup of tea. Feiyn blinks, making a face.
“What box?” She tilts her head, clearly confused. She glances around. “Feiyn don’t got muc— Oh!” She points over her shoulder with a jerk of her thumb. “Da music box? What does Feiyn know about it?”
“I’m surprised you didn’t notice that it’s a different one,” Van says, and this makes the orc scratch her head.
“What d’you mean a different one? It look da same ta Feiyn.” The paladin sighs, shaking his head.
“Tevruden wanted a replacement. Apparently the original got broken. It was kind of weird. He was very insistent,” Van says, brushing back a strand of hair from his face. “He asked that if I couldn’t do something with it, did I know someone else who could? Did it mean something to you?” He peers at the sniper curiously; her expression is one of shock. Very slowly, her expression melts into a warm smile.
“Is dat so…?” Feiyn muses.